


Penance Through Pleasure

by KieraRutherford



Series: Penance [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All the Smut, Anger, Comedy, F/M, Lots of Sex, Pain, Pining, Pure Smut, Romance, Sex, Teasing, Tension, Violence, some sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraRutherford/pseuds/KieraRutherford
Summary: How Diana helped Cullen heal through his lyrium withdrawal. This will be part of a series for their relationship and how they got together. There is copious amounts of sex, teasing, and other sexual things going to happen through this. LOTS!





	1. The Chant

“There is something I need to speak with you about, Inquisitor,” Cullen groaned, the bags under his eyes more pronounced then they had been in weeks. 

Diana had attributed his grey complexion, baggy eyes and snippy attitude to his forced push. His drive to have the Inquisition fortified at Skyhold. Now she was standing in his office, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, “Commander you are sounding fatalistic. Surely it isn’t as dire as you make it sound.”

Snorting Cullen pinched at the bridge of his nose, the pain throbbing between his eyes threatening his constitution, “it is.” Sighing he stood as tall as he could muster, resting his arm upon the hilt of his sword, gripping the pommel tight enough to feel the tension building in his knuckles. “Templars, as you are aware of, require lyrium to perform most of their magic cancelling abilities. It also binds us, as it is highly addicting. Without it, some Templars go mad, even die.” Sighing out heavily he closed his eyes for a moment before finding the strength to continue. “I… no longer take it.”

Slowly arching her eyebrow, she scoffed. There was no further movement, only her brow being the sign of her emotional state, “you’ll forgive me, Commander, but I already figured as much. Now, what is the real problem? As far as I see there is none.” Remaining against the wall, arms tight, she waited. 

Her flippancy caught him completely off guard and temporarily shook him out of the lyrium withdrawal haze. “Cassandra will watch me and if I cannot perform…”

“Nonsense. You are the Inquisition’s Commander, my Commander and until I see otherwise I will sanction no such thing.” Pulling off the wall, she brushed her gloved hand down her thighs, “now, if there isn’t anything else, I have some paperwork and random childish antics to put to bed.”

Growling between his teeth Cullen glared her down, “this is no joke Inquisitor, there are…”

“Yes, and the pointed side of the sword is sharp. Common sense and well known to those with a mind between their ears. You aren’t speaking to some simpleton, Commander. Do I have to remind you of such?” Crossing the room, she slapped a hand upon his desk, “I may have been born with noble blood, Commander but I am not one of them. If that is an issue with you, I recommend sticking it with your lyrium supply.” Standing tall her own arm resting on her sword hilt, she smirked, “I happen to agree with what you are doing. I simply disagree that you need a cheerleader. You have this, you don’t need me patting you on the back. It is your choice, and I stand with it.”

“I was not making reference to your nobility!” He snarked back at her.

Chuckling she tipped her head, “really? I’d say your actions speak differently. The moment you learned I was of noble blood you’ve treated me as if I were a stain upon the land. The poison running through my veins, the curse of nobility is not my choice. You parade around, disparaging anything that touched nobility. I’m sorry farm boy. I’m sorry you aren’t in my place because I’d gladly take yours.” Pushing off the desk she stormed out the door, just barely biting back the venom in her throat. 

Cullen stood dumbfounded and irritated. Grabbing an empty demijohn, he roared and threw it against the door, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. 

 

Nearly two weeks later, it had already been a long day and Diana had a headache. Strolling towards the tavern she was walking past the armory and heard shouting. Rolling her eyes, she pushed the door open to see Cassandra and Cullen in an exchange of heated words. Before she could say a word, Cullen excused himself. “Forgive me,” he uttered as he past by her, his hand rushing up to his hair. 

Waiting for him to close the door behind himself, Diana turned to Cassandra, “would it be too much to think he pinched himself in his trousers this morning?”

Cassandra tried to stifle a snicker as she clenched her hands behind her back. “And people say I’m stubborn. “ 

“No one thicker headed, but that’s why we love you,” Diana smiled as she stood before the firing kiln, basking in the heat pouring from the grate.

This time Cassandra allowed a short chuckle to escape before attempting to maintain her stoic stance. “Has he told you of his situation?”

Folding her arms Diana snickered as she spoke, “he has an unholy love of fine Orlesian silk?”

That was the end of Cassandra’s restraint as the woman nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles, “Maker you are terrible.”

“I know. It’ll be on my tombstone. ‘The Inquisitor was hilarious, it probably led to why she’s here.’,” pausing for a moment she held a hand up, “alright, alright, serious faces on. I’m assuming you mean about his effort to rid himself of lyrium. I told him, I agreed with his effort and that he would not be replaced.”

Cassandra smiled at the words, “he’s come so far, and now he teeters on the edge. Do you know why he came to see me?”

“The withdrawal is running its course. He must be feeling it heavily now and since he can’t tell himself to take it, he wishes someone to force his hand. I will do no such thing.” Gritting her teeth, she hissed, “he made this choice, by the Maker he will see it through. Even if I have to boot him in the ass.”

Breathing a sigh of relief Cassandra nodded, “perhaps you can get through where I have failed. He’ll listen to you.”

“Taking orders from a noble? Oh, I doubt that very much, but he may do it just to spite me, if I push him to.” Licking her lips, she knew she could get a rise out of him, and If it furthered his goal she’d pick at him till he pushed back. 

“There is another reason why you push so,” it was Cassandra’s turn to wear a smug smirk. “You fancy him.”

“Perhaps. But, being cursed with noble blood I doubt he’d give me a second glance. Either way my feelings are unimportant. There is a world to save, but first, I need to extract his head from his rear.” Patting Cassandra on the back she nodded, “I’ll see him now, before he makes some horrid decision.”

 

With the headache bubbling into her neck, causing her shoulders to stiffen, she was not in the mood to handle any of this. Instead she would have given anything to finish her trek to the tavern and drink the night away. Instead she was marching up the stone steps of the palisades to interrupt some horrible scene of her Commander losing his mind. At least that was what she was preparing for. She could hear him pacing back and forth in his office, and the sounds of things crashing about. “He’s lost it.” She grumbled to herself as she pounded her fist against the wooden door.

“What!” His voice boomed through. 

Kicking the door open she stood there, “have you lost your mind?” 

His tower was a mess of shattered bottles, torn and crumpled papers and although he had left Cassandra still in his armor, he was now naked from the waist up and sweating heavily,

“I… I am unwell.,” half collapsing, he braced himself upon the edge of his desk, “come to see me fall, your worship?”

Snorting she shut the door, “just wondering if the farm boy had the same strength of conviction of the highest born men. I had thought you would outclass them. It seems I may be wrong.” Tugging her gloves off she slipped them in her waist band. Seeing him straighten she knew she’d hit a nerve, and a big one. “Did I sting you, farm boy?”

“You make light of my suffering, as if I deserve it!” He half roared, throwing another empty bottle across the room. 

“No, your suffering is quite real and a terrible thing to have to endure,” tip toeing over the broken bottles and tatter papers, she came towards his desk. “I am referring to your selfish need to be told what is best for you. Especially when it is so clear. Burn your mind away, the essence of who you are. Or. Suffer just a bit longer and be free of anyone’s leash.” Running her finger over the edge of his desk she sighed, “is it impossible for you to think that I could care for you and your situation? Or should I continue to fling barbed shots at you?”

Cullen’s look of frustration and anger turned to confusion as he flopped into the chair behind his desk, “I… I do not understand…”

“Of course, you don’t. You can’t see me as anything but a noble, the Lady Herald. Would it surprise you to know I threw it all away? Took the best training money could afford, and when I bested my trainers, I walked away.” Grinning widely, she lifted up a half full bottle of strong liquor. Swirling it under her nose she grinned. He was watching her every move. Downing a healthy amount, she held it out to him, “I swear nobility isn’t contagious, despite what the Orlesian’s think.”

Taking the bottle his hand shook. “You need it,” she waved her hand, “or I am more than ready to finish it.” With the withdrawal biting him hard, and his mouth parched, he took the drink. Nearly draining the bottle dry in a few quick gulps. Setting the bottle down he wiped his hand over his mouth, still uncertain what was going on. 

“Better,” Diana took the bottle, swishing it back and forth, “well you will feel much better soon enough.” Chuckling she drained the rest before turning and launching it at the door. It shattered into pieces, “that does feel wonderful after a long day.” Coming around his desk, she stood in front of him. “Are we done playing this game? Or do we take it higher?” Kicking at his boots she knocked his feet to the side and stepped between them. 

“Do you know why I want this? Why I’m killing myself to do this?” His hands gripped the edges of the arm rests, the wood letting a squeal out under his iron grip. “I’ve seen the worst magic can do, the worst mages can become. I saw the depravities of mages echoed in the shining armor of the templars. The ones sworn to be better than that. Instead it became the mirror of the nightmares.” Hanging his head, he stared at her boots. “Yet, I wanted to serve. When I was given the honor of coming to the Inquisition I wanted nothing to do with my old life. Does that make sense?” He lifted his head to stare into her eyes.

Hands on her hips she smiled, “there, now we’re getting somewhere.” Half sitting on the edge of the desk she sighed, “you’ve been through much and I can…”

“I should be taking it!” He roared at her, “I risk putting everything and everyone in danger if I can’t focus. I…”

His voice was cut off by her hand flying across his cheek, a loud slap echoing in the room. “Don’t you dare,” she growled leaning down, her finger in his face. “You don’t get to play high and god damn mighty with me. You need this, you need to stop and never mention it again. Never think of it again. Don’t put this on the Inquisition, we’ll get things done as you manage your day to day.”

Cullen grabbed her wrists, snatching them with ease, tightly in his grasp, “don’t you dare.”

“Do it,” Diana bared her teeth inches from his face, “you don’t have it in you.”

In a fit of rage, he roared as he stood up quickly, still gripping her wrists tightly as he rushed her back. Slamming her into the bookcase, it knocked the wind from her. Her wrists over her head, she didn’t break her glare. Staring directly into his eyes. It coiled within her, the adrenaline running, cancelling the stinging of her back. She’d be bruised, that was a given but she wasn’t backing down. Years of training, taught to track, to taut and torment an opponent into failure and she wasn’t about to give up now. His usual placid copper eyes took on a more animalistic quality, she felt she was staring down a lion. 

It was a razor’s edge, yet she knew she had the upper hand. Saw it lurching behind that tense jawline. He would not harm her. No, he had her pinned, could easily have shattered her with his size and strength against that wooden bookcase, but he hadn’t. He restrained himself, that control built in deep even in blind rage. It was erotic how in control he was, how he had driven her back without any true effort. How he pinned her now, arms over her head, helpless. Not completely helpless, and now she couldn’t help the slow smirk spreading over her face. “I knew you didn’t have it in you. Wonderful display of control, even in rage. Use that, it’ll get you through the roughest symptoms to come.”

That seemed to stoke the anger rolling inside him as his lips curled over his teeth, perfect pearls that in the light shone like fangs, “you still jest at me? Does my suffering please you?”

While he had her hands above her head, he was leaned back enough that Diana could have countered. A swift thrust of her hips and she could wrap her calves around his neck easily enough. Tug him closer, wrap her powerful thigh over and squeeze. He’d be unconscious in thirty seconds. She wasn’t afraid, not even slightly and perhaps that was what angered him more. She couldn’t help that grin, seemingly now carved into her face, “not even a little. Does that disappoint you? Did you need a reason to hate me, loathe me perhaps? A reason to deny what you really want.”

Her words cut through his rage, severing him like a scalpel. “What?” 

In that moment he eased his grip, and Diana made her move. Hooking her heels behind his back she wrenched him towards her. Bracing herself to receive the full weight of his body against her chest. She bounced against the bookcase, shelves digging into her shoulders, her lower back, sending fresh waves of pain mixed with the tension the contact with his body forced through her. What should have been a groan in pain came out far more sinful than intended. Having properly braced herself, she regained her upper hand, “I’m not so bad, am I?” She purred against his face. “I don’t think you hate me at all. I don’t think you really dislike my noble blood other than it gets in your way. Prove me wrong.” She watched as the rage that seethed under his skin began to ebb away, replaced by a frustrated tension. 

“You have harassed me since your arrival at Haven,” he gritted, his face a couple inches from hers. “Every chance you get, you jest at me. Constant and sharp barbs flung from you tongue.” He swallowed hard as that tongue darted out to wet her lips and its brief presence sent shocks straight to his loins. “You… you know nothing.”

Still smirking, she snickered, “I know all about Kirkwall. Every horrid thing you said, every kind gesture you did to correct it. Men don’t do these things without a reason. Your restraint, your control isn’t Templar training and you can try that one all you want. You had a traumatic experience, before Kirkwall, my best guess. Judging by your reactions and my knowledge of the fifth Blight, I’d say at your first Circle. Involving mages, and,” she paused scanning his stunned face, “demons. Desire in particular but there’s more. And yet here you are, trying to make it all right. We all have red hands, Commander. We all look to make them clean. Now,” rolling her neck to relieve the pressure she sighed, “are we going to play cat and mouse forever or is the lion before me going to finish his little charade?” 

Pushing her back against the bookcase, tightening his grip again her snarled, “there you go again! Sputtering off thing you know nothing about. While you are right on most of it, it is not as simple as airing a person’s pain and hoping it fixes things. You cannot wash suffering and pain away with a grin and cocky utterances.”

Her legs were still locked about his waist, his bare chest pressed against hers. She could feel each breath he was taking, sharp and ragged, “I never said it did. And you never answered me. I understand your pain, and I stand by your choices. If you need such validation then I give it, freely. You are strong enough for this, and you will break this. You have superior control and you will best this chain wrapped around your neck, and I will not force it upon you. Not now, not ever. Was that what you needed from me?”

“Need? Why do you think I need anything from you?” He tried to sound firm, not to admit the feeling those words brought to him. The calm that was ushering over him, being replaced by the sudden awareness of how close he was to her. Pressed against her ample bosom, legs locked about his waist and her hands held firmly above her head. 

Tugging him closer she paused, just a hair from his lips, “yes, Commander. Need. Did I stutter?” Her lips brushed against his as she spoke, her breath passing over his cheeks and she felt his lower half respond. That was enough to encourage her to push, not that she needed it. She enjoyed pressing him. Pushing him out of his perfect little controlled bubble. That wasn’t life, not to her. If you aren’t breaking limits and half hanging off the edge, you aren’t truly alive. “Farm boy.”


	2. Twice is Never Enough

His cheek still stung from her swat, yet there was something intoxicating about her. Being pressed tightly against her, his lack of shirt and armor left him feeling every move of her chest. He was still angry, but for what now, he couldn’t remember. The strong liquor in the bottle was overruling his thoughts, swirling and heating inside him something he’d been denying himself. She was a beautiful woman. Strong, determined and smart. He even had to admit it was that sharp tongue he adored. Many times, he’d seen her use it to level men of all statuses, without blinking an eye. All left powerless before her and even though she had turned her barbs towards him, he was beginning to see it now. They were never meant to harm him. Her eyes were searching his and the tension between them could fill a Chantry. “Have a thing for farm boys?” He finally managed to quip back. 

Leaning in close, she ran her lips over his, teasing with each word, “perhaps, I do.” Her eyes were locked on his and with each pass of her plump lips against his, she caught the flutter of his lashes. Her instincts had been correct, and he relaxed the pressure against her wrists, sliding them down the book case. He was sitting on an edge and she could push him over, and Maker save her she was going to. Swiveling her hips against his, she drew her bottom lip into her mouth, “I very much do.”

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he felt the rush of excitement flow over him at the sudden friction. Friction that was quickly overriding any of his usual control, the liquor not aiding him at all. Sliding his fingers from her wrists to her hands, he entwined his fingers in hers. Shocked to feel her take them and embrace them. Feeling his heart pounding in his chest he leaned in, every fiber inside of him screaming to do it. Pausing half way, his eyes flicked up to hers, “I...”

“If you can’t take the hint Rutherford, I don’t know what else I can do for you,” Diana was breathy, her voice on the edge of cracking. Pressing herself against the bookcase, she tried to gain some form of advantage, only to find herself at his mercy. Bridging her back, she squirmed, “could you at least get me off this cursed bookcase.”

Grinning now, Cullen had the upper hand. Letting her hands go, he gripped under her thighs. Lifting her up he stepped backwards, knowing his chair wasn’t far. It was a large chair, almost a throne onto itself in his private kingdom. One he was used to ruling. While she had thrown him off, now he was back in control. Knowing she wanted this, wanted him, now there was no need to fumble about. To limber through pleasantries. And for once he was more than glad he had stripped down before she came in. As he sunk into the chair, her hands flew from around his neck, sliding down the taut plains of his scar riddled chest. Her fingers felt like fire, as she dragged her nails over his sensitive skin. “Ah,” he moaned, clasping his hands upon the armrests. It was sensory overload. Lyrium withdrawal making him acutely aware of each movement, each pulse of her breath on his skin, each beat of her heart, tight against his own. 

She was hungry, surging with raw energy and power as she settled into his lap. Legs straddled wide as she ground against him, feeling the hardening bulge pressing against her molten core. Running her hands up his chest, she quickly carded them up into his hair. Tussling loose the wavy coils from his morning efforts. Tugging his head back she licked her lips before diving in. Moaning long and loudly in his mouth she felt his hands clamp on her hips, as she dragged her teeth over his bottom lip. 

Shivering he was panting hard. Hands moving rapidly to undo ties and clasps, he was furiously ripping clothing from her. It was all too much and not enough, and he needed room. Rising from the chair he gripped her under her ass, holding her tightly he walked over to his ladder. It would be like getting his trunk up to the make shift bedroom. With one arm he hauled himself up the ladder, Diana tightly in his grip and her legs firmly wrapped around his waist. When they reached the top, she helped haul them the rest of the way up, only her bra band left upon her chest. 

She stood from him removing the thick strip of fabric and flinging it at him, before she began rapidly removing her leggings. Quickly peaking over her shoulder, she caught the bed. Licking her lips, she slowed the tug of her pants. Drawing them down, inch by painfully slow inch. 

Seeing her slide the leggings down, her tanned thighs, he licked his chops. He had wanted her since the moment he saw her at the remains of the temple. Now, she was here, real and raw. Baring herself before him, for him. Unlooping the belt, he began stripping his trousers as he took several stalking steps towards her. Toeing his boots of he let out a tumbling moan as she dragged herself up the mattress and onto his pillow, curled up coyly. Pressing his hands onto the foot of the bed, he kicked free his trousers and smalls.   
Tracking up the bed towards her, he wore a smirk the likes of which she’d never seen before. It sent thrills through her to see her Commander, reduced to a predatory beast. She’d left her smalls on, the only bit of clothing left. His usual amber rich honey eyes were now a smoked whiskey as he began to crawl up her body. Lips brushing upon her knees, working up her thighs, the hollow of her pelvis and up her stomach. Arching up, his hand slid under her, fitting in the cleft of her lower back. His knees kicked open her legs and she let out a sharp gasp as the hand that was cupping her backside, hooked fingers into the band of her smalls and wrenched them down. 

Both were panting as her last shred of fabric flew over his shoulder and his lips returned to her body. Tugging her down towards his body he felt the heat rise from between them. Her scent rolling over him, stoking the fire burning nearly white hot inside him. 

As he rose over her she looped her legs around his waist, tugging herself towards his body. She could feel his heat slipping over her entrance, warm and wet. It was driving her crazy, his hands on her body, rough and calloused. His lips trailing every inch, leaving nips and soft bruises. Each time his teeth grazed her skin she was getting louder, but she needed more. Had to have more. Clawing at his shoulders she pulled him closer. When he wouldn’t move she reached up and grabbed a hand full of his hair and hauled his face to hers. Crashing her lips against his, she felt a wave surge through her as he moaned, loudly, into her mouth. Her hands released their tight grip and trailed down between then, beginning to stroke him. 

He reached up, slanting his mouth over hers, his hands upon her warm cheeks. Tongue pressed against the seal of her lips. His heart nearly burst when she parted, and their tongues danced together. It was all too much and not enough, the sensitive skin in her palm. Tugging her leg over his hip he steadied himself between her legs, angling himself best he could without breaking his lips from hers. 

She guided him, slicking her hands against her folds, running it down his shaft, as she lined him up. There was no ceremony, no pleading, no words of comfort or love. Filing the air about them the sounds of wet skin against skin against skin.

Each thrust of his hips, each pass of his hands over her searing flesh made her sing a delirious chorus of sighs and loud moans. Diana tussled with him for control, rolling and flipping, all the while never breaking their bond. 

His teeth scrapped at her neck, her shoulder, her bottom lip and each time she let out a cry of pleasure, a mumbled hint of a moan. It was going to end too fast and she was wanting more, needing more. Grinding her hips against his she felt it coming. “Too soon,” she cried out as the wave fell over her. 

As she squeezed hard upon his length, he buried his face into her shoulder. Trying hard to keep from tipping over himself. Desperately, he wanted this to last. Needed this to last. Burying himself as deeply inside her as he could he waited out her wave before beginning again. Harder, faster, snapping his hips forward like a mad man pursuing his end. He knew he couldn’t last but he needed to hear it, just one more time. Her scream in pleasure, caused by him. At least he would sleep well tonight knowing it was he who caused her to shudder and pierce the night with her voice.

Clawing at his chest she was overwhelmed. Everything sensitive and rushing her towards another crushing peak. Her throat was becoming raw, as it came over her. Screaming out his name, she didn’t want this to end. What would he think of her when he came to his senses? 

Hearing his name escape her lips in a rush, made his stomach drop. It was the way she sang it, as if the very words etched themselves into his chest. Taking the air from his lungs. Thrusts turning into a broken staccato, he was hanging off the edge of his senses. Once more, twice more and he felt a heat swell and wash over him. Rippling out from deep within he panted out a gasping growl of her name, as he half collapsed on top of her. Eyes squeezed shut he didn’t dare open them till the feeling past. He wanted to savor this moment, burn it into his memory. Her feel, her scent, the soft puffs of air she was drawing in to ease her racing heart. Tentatively pulling himself from her, he caught the sharp intact of air pull from her. Rolling to his back he kept his eyes closed. Was it too much to pray he wasn’t sleeping? Was it too much to think this could be more than a rage induced release? Throwing his arm over his eyes he struggled to quell the furious beating in his chest.

Both laid there for a time, neither wanting to move lest the whole thing be some sordid dream. Neither could bare the thought it was nothing but a dream. It was Diana who finally moved, her usual boisterous side slipping through. “Please tell me you enjoyed that, because I can’t be the only one hoping you recover quickly.”

Cullen nearly choked on his own saliva at the words coming from her. “inquisitor…”

“No, oh no. You don’t get to fuck me like that and call me Inquisitor. Definitely not while I lay here naked in your bed.” Leaning up on her elbow, she snuggled into his side. “Diana, please say it.”

Having no energy left to deflect her, and seeing no reason to argue he didn’t move when she caressed his side. Smiling, his eyes still covered by his arm he chuckled, “alright. Diana.”

Trailing her fingers through the soft, fluffy golden flecks of hair on his chest, Diana grinned, “it does sound wonderful from your lips.” Kissing his bicep, she enjoyed the heat of his skin against hers, “you’ll forgive my informalities, Cullen. I detest titles in bed, and I do enjoy this bed.” Skimming her fingers over each faint scar she licked her lips. “I must say, I didn’t think you’d do it. Figured you’d keep that stick up your ass till the end.”

“Stick up my ass?” Throwing his arm off he leaned into her. “I thought for sure you loathed my very existence. Keeping me around for sheer entertainment. Had I any inkling…”  
“You’d done nothing until issued an order. Even then you’d simply believe I was using you for my personal enjoyment.” Laying flat upon the bed she pulled the blankets over them. “I have leveled enough hints your way, I’m sure Leliana was ready to club you over the head.”

Coughing Cullen shot up in bed, “Maker’s breathe, what?”

Pushing him back down onto the bed, Diana quickly shot up and straddled him, “you really aren’t a subtle man, are you? By what I’ve just enjoyed at least I know I’m not ruining a virgin. So, tell me what you want from this.”

Her hands were splayed upon his chest, long locks of scarlet coils, messily fell over her breasts. Licking at her lips she watched his reactions. How his cheeks flushed deeply, and his eyes darted about the room. Under her, his chest rose and fell sharply. “Oh, don’t say a word,” she grinned leaning into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, face hovering over his. “You wanted this as much as I did. You… yes, I’m so glad you do.” 

“Maker’s breath that is unnerving.” He nervously fumbled with the sheets by his side, unsure where to put his hands. 

“Sorry, old habits,” kissing his cheek she sighed, “where you planning on waiting forever to tell me how you feel? Or were you truly content to sit in silence, ever wondering what if?”

Gripping her by the hips he rolled her over, settling upon his knees he took her hands and pinned them over her head. “How…”

“Am I so infuriating and alluring in one breath?” Chuckling she didn’t struggle against his grip. “Training that runs deep, as deep as your Templar ways. I’m no mage, and I’m not reading your mind. If you don’t believe me, then do what you must. I’m sure there is enough of that blue shit in your blood to summon up some anti-magic thing.”

Tightening his grip, he pulled on the trace amounts of lyrium still set deep into his organs and blood. Pulling on the magic that he learned to cancel the effects of mages. It pulsed from him and he could feel it wash over her. It created a push against her, but it didn’t affect her. “You…”

“Aren’t a mage, shocking I know.” Rolling her eyes, she locked her legs around his waist and pulled him towards herself, nearly toppling him. “Training, lots of it and a natural ability to read people. I hate to disappoint you.” Bucking her hips, she flipped him over, straddling his hips once more. “You never answered my questions, or perhaps I didn’t let you. I don’t want one night, I don’t want twenty nights. I want to see where this will lead. What do you want, now that I have given you the comfort of knowing where I stand?”

Growling he wanted to buck her over, regain control. Even though he had her wrists still in his grip, he felt as if he was some how at her mercy. “You are…” His words were promptly stopped upon his tongue by her lips. He melted into her kiss, loosening the grip until he released her all together. His hands found her hips and skimmed up her back. Sliding through her hair he cupped her jaw, “incredible.” His voice was shaky as she broke the kiss. 

Rubbing her nose against his she sighed deeply, “you aren’t so bad yourself.” Laying on top of him, she ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling the mess of loosened curls, “I could get used to this.”

Tugging the blanket back over them, Cullen sighed, “yes.” Blinking a few times, he wasn’t sure he’d just said that, let alone to the Inquisitor. A very naked, and warm Inquisitor who was calmly tracing scars and random patters on his arms, and chest. “I can’t believe… this isn’t real. I have to be dreaming,” he mumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Her ear upon his chest she chuckled, “oh you aren’t dreaming. But I’ll take that as a compliment.” Kissing him over his heart, she rolled off him and snuggled into his side. “Don’t mind me if I fall asleep. It’s rare to be so comfortable.” 

Unsure of any of this he wrapped his arm around her, “forgive me if I cannot fathom that this is real. That this has happened. We were fighting, perhaps I lost consciousness? Perhaps, I hit my head? I would find it more believable that you struck me hard enough to send me to the floor. That I am dreaming all of this, because Maker, it Is too wonderful to be real. I… I don’t deserve such things.”

Skimming her hand down his chest, she fluffed the trail of coarse hair under his belly button before sliding lower. Purring as her fingertips ghosted over his tip, she kissed his chest again, “you deserve this and so much more.” Brushing along the shaft she wound her fingers around the base, slowly stroking him. “So much more.”

“Diana,” he gasped out her name as his head fell back into the feather stuffed pillow, his eyes squeezed shut again.

Feeling him grow harder with her ministrations she straddled him, the blanket pooling about her waist. “No, open your eyes for me.” Sinking him deep inside of her, she quivered. “This isn’t a dream, it’s real. I’m real.” Taking his hands in hers, she traced them over her stomach, over her breasts, releasing his hands, she let out a sinful chorus of grunts, and sighs as he took control of himself. 

Everything was heightened, as if the sensitivity of before was a dull hum. Now everything felt grounded and real. The Inquisitor was riding him, careful and slow. Dragging him in and out of her heat, inch by inch. Lingering as she swiveled her hips, earning another deep chested grunt from him. Pawing at her breasts he was in tune with her. Allowing himself to sink into the reality that she was presenting him. 

Pitching herself forward she began teasing his lips. Nipping at his bottom lip, before sucking it into her mouth. His sharp exclamation had her humming in approval. Capturing his lips in a wanting kiss she held his shoulders down as she continued to overwhelm his senses. This new angle created a friction against her swollen nub. Each buck of her hips drove her closer, and she could see in his eyes he was hanging on by the barest of limbs. Breaking their kiss, she brushed her cheek against his, enjoying the scratch of his stubble. Pressing her lips to his ear she hummed softly, “you are perfection. Maker blessed perfection.”

As the words poured into his ear like molten honey he felt it wash over him again. Gripping her hips tightly he shuddered and jerked as it overpowered him. Her shoulder flew into his mouth and he bit down, stifling his howl. Lost in the sensation he dropped his hands, flopping limply against the bed. She hadn’t stopped rocking along him, her own pace breaking down into a hurried gallop. Finding some strength left in his arm he cupped her jaw, tenderly pulling her towards his lips. Slow and soft, he kissed her. Wishing to convey the feelings he couldn’t put into words. He had felt something with her. That moment they met at the small rift blocking the path to the Temple. He had felt it every day since. Watching her from a distance, only to hear she was of noble blood. A lineage he could never hope to reach, being born of commoners’ blood. Each time they met it was his choice to be cold, keep things as professional as he could. She tormented him, day and night. Seeking to tease and ridicule him. Now, it was clear. She hadn’t said those words out of anger, or mistrust of him, but by his own making. Whether she was aware of how he felt or not, he wouldn’t make the mistake now. His tongue danced off hers and he could feel her tighten about him. Gripping her cheeks, he swallowed hard, taking in the moment she fell into her zenith.


	3. Rising to the Challenge

When she managed to catch her breath and open her eyes, he was staring at her. Taking in a lung full of air, she giggled, “you look like you have something you want to get off your chest. My best guess, it isn’t me.”

“I wanted to apologize. I misunderstood everything. I… I thought you hated me. Now I see it was me. I was the one being cold and cruel. All the while, I… I cared for you. From the moment we met on the battle field, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. But, we’d only just met.” Rubbing his thumb over her cheek bone he couldn’t help but feel a weight being lifted from him. Even the lyrium withdrawal faded away. Only her, and him, in this moment mattered. 

Resting upon his chest she chuckled, “about time you let that out.” Twirling some of his hair in her fingers she sighed, “I apologize as well. I could have handled it much better instead of creating all this tension between us. Not that it didn’t have a wonderful result.” Yawning she slid off to the side as she had before and snuggled into him, wrapping her legs in his. “Forgiven?” 

“Only if you have forgiven me,” he smirked back at her, his hand running through her hair, the soft scent of spice wafting up into his nose. He wished to never forget that smell. The exhilarating mix of sex and soap, spice and her unique honey. 

Rubbing her head into his chest, she got comfortable, “of course. Flaws and all, you are perfect. I was not lying when I said it.” Yawning again she closed her eyes. “Strong, smart, solid and safe.” 

Wrapping his arms around her the best he could he followed her exhausted utterance. “Perhaps…”

Her finger flew to his lips, “Shhh, there will be no arguing with me tonight. I’m far too tired. I’m doubting you have the energy for another round either.” Running her finger down his lips, over his chin and resting her hand upon his chest she yawned again. “We can go over important details in the morning.”

Feeling her breast rise and fall steadily slowing, he could tell she had drifted into sleep. He still had no idea how all this happened. How he’d managed to bed the Inquisitor. He’d slammed her against a bookshelf, half threatened her, screamed and paraded about as a fool. Yet, here he was. Laying naked and twice satiated by the woman. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met before and he probably would ever meet again. Tucking her head under his chin he settled into her, best he could. Hearing a soft purr escape her lips he couldn’t help but pray that come morning, this wasn’t some dream. Some boyish fantasy gone wrong. Or that by morning light, she’d change her mind and pursue a more stable man. Perhaps, Warden Blackwall, or even Iron Bull. Trying not to let that sink in, he closed his eyes. 

Uttering a half-mumbled prayer to the Maker, he resigned himself to the judgement of daylight. Whatever she thought of him, or decided then. He would honor it. As the last words lifted up through the hole in the ceiling he felt the tug of the Fade. Drawing in a couple deep breaths he quickly fell into a restful sleep. 

Sun rays filtered over him and he felt his head throb. The alcohol had left a bitter taste in his mouth and a humming migraine to begin his day. Groaning he rolled over. His hand crested over something under the blanket. It was warm and cracking an eye open he tried to recall what it could be. Jumping back, he stifled the yelp in his throat. She was still in bed. His bed. Asleep and nude. It wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a fantasy. It was real, and she was real. 

Running his hand over his mouth and chin, he tried to think of what to do. Judging by the sunlight he could easily figure it was a couple hours after sunrise. Sitting on the edge of the bed he began collecting his clothes. Hearing the door open downstairs, he knew the servant girl had come to place a fresh bucket of hot water for him at the foot of the ladder. Waiting to hear the door click shut again he tugged his pants on and went to collect the bucket. Returning to his private bedroom he decided it would be best to shave, wash and prepare for the day. 

Being as quiet as he could muster he tended to himself. Shaving away the day-old scruff, washing and taming his unruly coils. Using his cloth, he washed himself best he could before applying the oakmoss balm on his aching joints. There was still half a jar left and he made a mental note to see the healer for another soon. Rummaging through his chest he found clean clothes and began dressing. 

“So eager to start the day,” she chuckled, stretching her arms over her head before she sat up. Letting the blanket spill down to her waist. Running her fingers through her hair, she combed away the heavier knots. “Have a brush I may borrow? Seems my hair is particularly cruel to me today.” 

Passing her his comb he blushed brightly. She was so carefree as her chest was bared before him, “did you, uh… need a shirt?”

“Am I distracting you?” Licking her lips, she stopped brushing. Running a finger down between her breasts, she snickered, “come back to bed.” Patting the spot beside her she fluttered her long black lashes. 

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, “Inquisitor, we must talk…”

“Diana, to you, please.” Her face fell, and she reached for the blankets, tugging them around herself she returned complete focus to tending the knots in her hair. 

Hands on his hips, he groaned, “I did not mean to offend. I simply… I wish to know what this is. You come into my chambers late at night, goad me into a near fight, then…”   
closing his eyes, he struggled to keep the boyish grin from spreading across his lips. “I… I want to know what you intend.”

Chuckling she finished her hair and rising, she let the blanket drop. Strutting around the room she collected the few remains of her clothes, “my intentions?” Humming she tugged her smalls on, bending to the side, showing him a perfect profile of her curves. “I intend to wine you, dine you and court you. Unless you have another who’s attention you desire. If so, I will call this one of my fondest memories and…”

He’d closed the gap between them, wrapped her up into his arms and suffocated her speech against his lips. Her sighs of content and his own moan, filled what little space left between them. Slanting his mouth, he dipped her down. Each pass of his lips made him want more, reminded him of last night. Knowing he was running out of time he set her back upon her heels and slowly pulled back. Her lips followed his and he smirked, “I suppose I enjoy being courted.”

Straightening herself up she returned her focus to her dressing. “I’m glad you see it that way. I’d hate only getting you for one night. There is so much more to you.” Picking up the bra band she deftly refastened it to her chest. 

Returning to his dressing he readied himself for the day. Pulling his linen long sleeve shirt on before his breast plate, pauldrons and mantle. By the time he finished pulling on his last boot, he turned to see her perched upon the end of his bed. She’d gone ahead and made it, tucking the edges in and fluffing the pillows before seating herself on the corner. “Diana?”

“Just curious how it all goes on. I don’t wear such heavy plate. Too cumbersome, doesn’t allow me to move as I’d like to.” Rising she chuckled, “I have very few plans for today. Shockingly saving all of Thedas from a Darkspawn Magister does have its down days.” Brushing off her pants she grinned, “the council will meet at some point after lunch, you’re set to train the troops within the next hour and I have yet to get any training done. I’m curious. Would you take up the challenge of besting me in the sparring ring?” 

“My lady, I don’t think you’d stand much of a chance. A fully trained templar, could surely best any of your trainers.” Grinning, he loved the idea of facing her in combat. 

Heading towards the ladder she laughed, “oh, I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you. I’ve taken on bigger brutes.” Slipping down the rungs her laughter filled the tower, “I’ll see you in the training ring, after the meeting. Help blow off a bit of steam. Hope you’re ready for me, choir boy.”

For the rest of the morning he found it increasingly impossible to focus on his work. The letters he usually went over upon his desk, before heading to the training yard, weren’t sinking in. It was as if each word were a jumbled mess of letters meant for someone else’s eyes. Tugging his gloves off he scrubbed them before running his hands down his face.   
“Her skin, hot against mine. Real and yet a fantasy. Too good for me, too pure and wonderful. I don’t deserve her, or such lavish attention,” Cole sat at the top of the ladder, swinging his legs freely back and forth. 

Cullen drew in a deep breath. Diana had let the spectral boy stay and something about the lad made his skin crawl. Despite everything he had done, Cullen was still very leery of the youth, “what did you want Cole?”

“You like her, no love her but you fear she couldn’t possibly love someone like you. Dirty hands, unclean and red. Too many innocence, and not enough water to wash it away. The chains call, the blue bottle sings and it hurts. Grounds and keeps you aware. It’s not a dream, she cares for you. As much as you for her.”

Flopping back in his chair he glanced up at where the boy was sitting, getting ready to utter something when he noticed the spot bare. “Cole?” Looking around quickly, Cole was no where to be seen.

“Oi, I heard you. Making all that noise from jack boot’s office. You and him eh?” Sera jabbed Diana in the ribs while they sat on the roof of the tavern.

Half pushing the elven girl over Diana smirked, “I don’t kiss and tell. Nor do a bang and brag.”

“Well seems right. All them men under him, needed a woman over him. Because, well, positions.” Pulling a cookie from the leather satchel she flung it over the edge, hitting a pigeon off the head. “Flying rats, they are.”

Standing and knocking the dirt from her pants Diana chuckled, “can’t argue with that. Hate to dine and dash, but the council awaits.”

“Hey, you ain’t going to give any details at all? I don’t want to pay that stuffy vint any silver!” Sera whined as she stuffed her hand back into the bag, searching for another target.  
“You’ll owe him two, seeing as he will at least try to ply me with his best wine. I look forward to the red he has stowed away for just such an occasion.” Listening to Sera mumbled under her breath Diana couldn’t help but laugh. “Have no fears, I’m sure you’ll earn it back.”

“Spoil sport,” Sera half lobbed a cookie at Diana as she ducked into the tavern window. 

Strutting through the doors to the war room, Diana hid the snicker under breath. Cullen was in his usual place, but his face was a deep shade of red. Josephine and Leliana trying to hide their giggles. “Is everything alright? Or have I missed something important?” Diana came around to her spot, peering over the board and small stack of papers facing her.  
“Leliana was just saying that last night, was rather warm. The first glimpse of spring in the mountains. She was saying she was certain she had heard the mating call of some animal in the night.” Stifling another bought of giggles Josephine turned to Leliana, an unspoken word that Leliana picked up on.

“Yes Inquisitor, there was quite the din coming from over the Commander’s tower. I was asking him if perhaps he had heard the sound. Or caught sight of the creatures.” 

Without cracking a smile, Diana shrugged her shoulders, “well it seems whatever it was it must have kept our poor Commander awake half the night. There are pronounced circles under his eyes today. For his sake, let’s keep the meeting short today, shall we?” 

Cullen pinched at his nose, trying to maintain his calm. She had saved him the embarrassment of having his private affairs dragged before two chatty women and for that he was thankful. “If you would please proceed with the information out of Orlais, we could end this sooner rather than later.”

Josephine flipped through some papers before pulling one to the top, “our messages aren’t reaching the Empress. No matter how we address the letters, they never seem to reach her hand.” 

“The Winter Palace ball is rapidly approaching, and Josephine had secured us tickets. We will be the personal guests of the Grand Duke.” Leliana passed Josephine another letter as she spoke. “Our only hope of protecting the Empress and preventing Corypheus from destroying Orlais will be at the ball.”

Plucking the stack of letters off the table, Diana made a weak huffing sound, “of course. Were it so simple it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Arrange the tailors, and all that is needed to prepare. I want my inner circle present, I trust them and their judgement.”

“We can only bring a small handful as your personal guard. After that, they will become suspicious and any hope of preventing the assassination will be in jeopardy.” Josephine shook her head, collecting a fresh sheet, “select three or four. We can have matching suits tailored to them easily enough.” 

Mulling over her group of comrades she listed her picks, “Dorian, Bull, Blackwall, and Solas. I think that will do us well.”

“Would you explain your reasons, Inquisitor,” Cullen focused his attention on every move as she spoke.

“Dorian is from Tevinter, an unknow to those attending the ball. Bull is a spy, trained in subterfuge. Blackwall, is strong and incorruptible. Solas, is a healer with great skill. Should the worst come to pass, I’d stake my life on him being there.”

Josephine scrawled the list down, “I shall have them measured and suits tailored. I can have a tailor from Val Royeux here within a few days. We don’t have much time.” 

“Then we move as quickly as we can. What’s the sentiment on the Inquisition within the noble ranks?” Flipping the page, she caught word of a possible location for Samson. Tucking it back into her hand she would read that one over back in the privacy of her room.

“Luke warm at best,” Josephine sighed.

Leliana chuckled, “so serious Josie. They will be easily swayed once the Inquisitor arrives and begins working the crowd. She was a master of the Grand Game, remember?”

“Am a master,” Diana smiled, “I’ll turn the nobility to my side. That part doesn’t worry me. My only concern is the assassin. I know the nobles of Orlais, have had my fair share of inedible meals at the hands of their ‘cooks,’” groaning Diana rolled her eyes. “Be sure to check what’s on the plate before you eat it. My cousin was nearly poisoned with deathroot extract. Some chef thought it would make for an interesting sensation in the mouth when sprinkled atop canapes.”

“That will be unlikely, thankfully,” Leliana chuckled. “This is the Winter Palace, only the best will be served. Petit fours and many other treats.”

Cullen rolled his eyes, “it will take time to position our men inside the Palace. You’ll need to do some mingling if we are to have any hope of getting enough in before the assassin strikes.” 

Purring she leaned over the table, allowing the front of hr shirt to fall open, exposing the tightly bound cleavage. “Mingling won’t be a concern. By the time I’m through you could have the entire army march through the front doors and no one would be the wiser.”

Clearing his throat, he noticed the teeth marks left upon the crested swell of her bosom. “I see,” was all he could manage to get out. 

Leliana caught it all, her eyebrow quirked high, “then it’s settled. The Inquisitor will buy us time while we get our people into place. From there, we will ensure the safety of the Empress. I believe that is all, no?”

“I have nothing further to add. There will be more once the tailor arrives and any letters I receive will be placed upon your desk, Inquisitor.” Josephine finished jotting down her note before smiling and collecting a few more papers from the table.

Cullen tapped a stack of papers neatly, trying to focus on anything but the lovely images from last night playing through his head. “I have nothing further to add at this time, Inquisitor.” 

Biting the edge of her lip she had to nip back the urge to take her usual stabbing jest at him. Instead she toned herself down, “then I shall see you in the sparring ring shortly. I must change into something more appropriate for combat. I hope you slept well last night Commander, I have no intention of going easy on you.” As she calmly turned and strutted away she could hear him stumble over his boots. Smirking widely, she held her head high as she rounded the corner and opened the door to her room.


	4. She Had Flexibility

In truth she was wearing comfortable enough clothing to fight. There wasn’t such a thing as armor that moved well in combat and she had become used to such truths. This is why she had opted to wear a custom bit of armor. Leather and plate, mesh chain to give the sensitive bits some coverage. Sparring wouldn’t require her to suit up. Instead she tugged out her most flexible leggings, and removed her waist cinch. Tying her hair up tightly she swiped a training jerkin from the bottom drawer of her dressing stand.   
Tying off any loose pieces she tugged on an old pair of worn leather gloves. Given to her as a gift by some male suitor. It was more of a joke for her. She’d worn them the day she challenged him to a duel, to defend her own honor. Not only did she best him in open combat, she humiliated him before the small crowd. It was her trophy, and she enjoyed using them to train. Pure, hand softened ram’s leather, her name embossed at the knuckles. Clearly the man never thought she’d wear them, and that amused her even more.   
Racing down the steps of her quarters she slowed her walk to something more regal as she casually made her way through the throngs of nobles and visiting pilgrims. Mid-day sun was pouring in through the stained glass behind the throne and she knew it was the perfect time to stroll through. Colours of vibrant reds, blues, greens and more cascaded over her, giving her a god-like presence as she walked. Gathering people gasped and mumbled amongst themselves as she carried herself like an Empress towards the main hall doors. 

Briskly skipping down the steps she could see he hadn’t arrived at the training arena yet. Part of her was curious. Maybe her earlier tease in the war room had led to his ‘delay.’ Snickering to herself she didn’t mind either way. It was the perfect opportunity to stretch and warm herself before they began. Going over the racks of wooden swords and shields, she tested the feel in her hand of each blade until she was pleased with one close enough to her own. Repeating the process, she selected her shield. Placing them both close to her she began stretching and limbering up her body. 

Grunting again he stroked himself thrice more before spilling hot and thick over his hand, under his desk. Panting he cursed himself. Opening the bottom draw he tugged fresh a cloth. Cleaning himself up he bundled the shredded hunk of fabric back up and tossed it into the corner under his desk. He was unable to focus from the second he left the war room. Her scent still lingering in his office and the thought of his teeth, sinking into the delicate and deliciously soft flesh of her breast had him hard. Upon his return to his office he had snapped at the guards outside, “no one must bother me. I am preparing for a sparring match, and wish to be left alone. Have the servants bring all items when I am in the ring to my desk. I will attend to them when I have returned.” 

The guard was too terrified to speak against him and could do nothing more than acknowledge the request and uphold it. Something Cullen knew before he slammed his door shut behind him, bolting it closed. Sitting at his desk he couldn’t wait to get his ties undone and nearly ripped them off. Now, he sat like a man deflated. “Demon,” he muttered to himself. She was just like a desire demon, tempting, haunting and he wanted her. Needed her. There was something all together foreign and terrifying to allow himself to think of such things. 

He was by no means unaware of his looks, or of the drive both women and men had towards him. Many times, he had used that to his advantage. Both in Kirkwall and twice in Haven. He still carried a guilt from Haven. Both women he had slept with perished in the fires and avalanche. He swore from that point forward he would be a better man. Try to wait for something once the chaos had died down. Of course, Dorian had other plans. Constantly bothering him, teasing him at their chess games. If Dorian only knew now, what he had gotten himself into. Walking over to the basin of water he washed his hands clean. Drying them thoroughly, he began unbuckling his breast plate. She was a smaller woman, which meant she would be faster than him. His breast plate and pauldrons would only hinder him against her. Stacking his pieces against the training dummy in the corner he was content. Feeling the lightness wash over him he flexed his back and felt the wonderful popping release of his tired aching bones. 

Tossing his good leather gloves onto his desk he retrieved his training gloves from the box on his bookcase. Beaten, worn and several times re-stitched they were comfortable. Rolling his sleeves up he tucked his shirt into his pants before tightening the ties. Re-adjusting the metal caps on his boots he made sure to double check them before unlatching his door and marching down the stone steps to the training yard. 

Step after step he watched her on his way down. She was bent in half, gripping her ankles, her rear turned to face him. The quiet beast inside him, reared its head, ‘you could claim her from behind, drive her into the dirt and have her howling in moments.’ Carnal thoughts swam as he maintained his cool exterior, never breaking pace down the stairway. Gritting his teeth, he caught her arch her back as she pressed herself into a stand before spreading her legs wider and dipping to one side, holding for a moment and going to the next. ‘It’s just a stretch, it’s just her stretching.’ Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

Cresting the last step, he casually peered around. Some were standing by, watching the Inquisitor warm her muscles before their match. Snarling at the two recruits he dropped his voice to a low, hearing their raunchy comments, “I suggest you find something to do with your time, other than debasing the Inquisitor. If I catch wind, either of you is sputtering such filth from your tongues, you won’t want to know what will be done with you, or to you.” 

Two ghostly white faces looked up at him in horror, “Commander, we were only kidding. We meant nothing by it, nothing at all. We swear.” 

Curling his lip over his teeth he snarled, “move, out.” Pushing past the men he began tugging off his mantle. Carefully hanging it over the wooden railing he ducked under the beam and entered the training ring. Rolling his neck, he felt the release of air from between several vertebrae snapping loudly. Picking his favourite blade and shield he rolled his wrist, the hilt firmly gripped in his palm. 

“Wonderful, I was concerned you wouldn’t show. Too afraid to lose in front of your men.” Diana grunted as she straightened up from her stretch. Collecting her carefully selected equipment she giggled, “armor less? Excellent choice, it might even it up a bit more.” Twirling the blade in her hand she dragged the tip of the wooden sword in the dirt as she took her place across from him. 

Giving his shoulders a quick snap forward he shook out his arms before settling into a comfortable stance. “I believe I have the edge. What are the rules of this engagement?”   
“Simple. First to disarm the other wins, or to get their opponent on their back,” licking her lips, she purred. “I won’t let you get me on my back so easily. At least, not this time.”

Chuckling, he dug his heel into the dirt, “if you are planning on attacking with your tongue, save your breath. You won’t affect me here. This is my comfort zone, Inquisitor.”  
Slipping into a templar stance was second nature to him. No different then breathing or blinking. His body moved on memory, hoisting the shield up at shoulder height, angling it down ten degrees. Sliding the blade over top, it rested on the edge of his shield. Foot over foot he watched her movements and countered her. 

Diana took a smaller buckler, apposed to his larger tower shield. Keeping her eyes trained on his shoulder she wanted him to move first. Getting him on the attack, see what his steps would be. Feigning a forward lunge, she side stepped his quick counter and doubled back. As she’d hoped, he pursued her. Knocking his slashes away she kept her eyes trained on his chest when it popped out from behind his shield. He opened himself for attack when he came wide with his blade. It wouldn’t be perfect, but she could use it. Allowing him to come in close she countered the first two swipes when he went for the heavier slash. Stepping into the attack his blade harmlessly went by her as her shield slammed into his chest. 

He had barely caught the attack in time, just clenching the muscles of his stomach and bracing his chest before the wooden shield crashed into his torso. Blinking hard he threw up his shield, preventing her from following up her attack. It stung, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t push aside.

“Was it good for you?” Diana hummed as she gave him room to catch his breath. “I warned you, I would not go easy, and you should take me when you can.” She hung the last words, dripping with sweet honey in the air before she slapped at his shield with her sword. 

Growling, husky and low he reseated his feet, “teasing, again are you?” Slapping her blade away with his shield, he locked eyes with her. 

Taking a half hop backwards she grinned, “tease? Me? I would never dare such things.” Batting away two more of his strikes she locked blades and tugged him in close, pressing her shield against his, “I make promises.” Seeing him temporarily lose focus she dropped down and with the sudden break of their shields he naturally fell forward. With everything she had, she let out a battle cry before she heaved him up and over.

Landing on his back he sputtered as the breath came rushing from him. Clutching his shield and sword tightly still in his grip he struggled to fill his lungs with air, but never did he break his eye contact with her. 

“Do you yield to me?” Diana purred placing one booted foot on each side of his hips.

Smirking wide, the brief time it took her to step over his hips gave him the time to regain his senses and catch his breath. She hadn’t raised her blade to him and he still have his shield and sword firmly in his grasp. Bridging up quickly onto his shoulders he kicked out of legs, twisting his hips and knocking her to the ground with a thud, “not even slightly.” Seeing her scramble to get back up he threw his weight back onto his shoulders and kicked his legs up to his chest before pushing off. Perfectly landing on his feet, sword rotating in his palm, “nice trick. I hope you have more than fancy foolery to get you by, Inquisitor.” 

“I got you on your back,” huffing she straightened up. She wasn’t prepared for his maneuver and on the way down she had scratched her arm along the gravel. It was stinging and raw, several small specks of blood bubbling up. 

Taking a moment to eye her motions he held the shield firmly, “your rules were: disarm or to get your opponent on their back. I was not disarmed, nor pinned upon my back.” Reaching down to the bucket at the edge of the arena he tugged out a cloth, “do you require a moment? You appear to be bleeding.”

Spitting to the ground she shook her head, defiant and angry, “I do not require a nurse maid. Come at me!” 

There was no waiting, Cullen barely had time to toss the cloth back down before Diana was upon him. Parrying each attack, her felt her force grow, there was a fire in her eyes. Him besting her in that small move had angered her and she was looking to beat him. He had been holding back, but each attack upon him was breaking down his will to maintain his calm. He was trying to focus on technique instead of raw strength. Raw strength that would have easily won him the match, or at least that is what he convinced himself.   
Light was waning, and both were panting hard as Cullen shook his head, “are you not content yet? Why push so hard? You can equal me in most techniques, I’ll concede that.”

“Equal,” huffing she tossed her hair back, the braid having come out of it’s pinning. “Isn’t good enough.”

She charged forward again, locking swords with him, “you won’t beat me, not unless I let you. I have strength and reach.” He gritted out between his teeth as he pushed her backwards, setting into a flurry of thrusts and ripostes. 

“I have speed and flexibility!” Dodging easily enough she danced about his arching blade to slam herself into his side, causing him to take a hurried quick step back. “Quit playing with me! Reds won’t be so kind, neither should you.”

“Your arm is bleeding, your lip and there is a bruise forming above your right eye. What more do you want of me?” He roared back as he batted her sword away with ease. Harder than he wanted to, nearly spinning her completely around. She lost her footing and while she was in the dirt spin he kicked his boot out, catching her rear and sending her tumbling forward.

Tucking her body tight she rolled forward and back into a stand, whirling about to be prepared to counter an attack. “Hurt me, damnit! How am I to learn?!” 

“I don’t need to turn you into pulp to teach you!” Yelling back at her, his resolve was wearing thin. He needed to end this. He had strength. As she charged in again he roared as he bashed his shield into her sword arm, sending her blade sailing. Following through with his momentum he smashed her in the chest with his forearm, knocking her to the ground. Kicking away her shield he dropped to his knees, straddling her hips, his blade at her throat. Sluffing the shield off his arm he sneered, “disarmed, and on your back, pinned. It is over.”

Breathing heavily, her chest burned, and he was applying his weight upon her hips, locking her down the ground. If only she could free her hips. Growling she shook her head, “It’s not over.” Knocking his elbow down she moved her head just as the wooden practice blade stabbed into the ground where her head was. This sudden movement had tugged him off balance just enough that she could thrust her hips up. Grabbing the collar of his jerkin she thrust over her head in time with her hips. As he went up and over her, she tucked her head and rolled on top of him. “Now you are disarmed and pinned.” 

Chuckling deep in his chest he licked at his bottom lip, “pinned is not actually correct.” With that the wrestling match was on. Either side tossing and turning, pulling and pushing. She had flexibility and speed, he had strength and reach. Things began to get rougher as Diana didn’t want to relinquish control or lose. Punching and kicking ensued. 

Both breathing heavily Cullen was sitting on top of her again, holding her wrists above her head, “do you yield?” He was grinding her arms into the dirt, feeling her still struggling against him. “Maker’s breath, Diana, stop this madness!” There was no where for her to go, no angle or shift she could apply with how he held her. Scanning her eyes, he thought he caught fear, that same look he’d seen when they brought the young mages into the Circle. “Diana, look in my eyes, Diana!” 

Taking in several breathes Diana shut her eyes tight. “I’m fine.” Clenching her jaw tightly she was stuffing the panic rising through her. There was no way she was breaking his grip. “You win, claim your prize.”

Still pinning her down, feeling her tense against him he snorted, “prize? You are no trophy to be claimed by brute strength.” Releasing her he stood up, holding his hand out to her, he sighed. “Get up.”

Taking his hand when he tugged to help her up she leapt into him, feeling his other arm natural coil around her waist, “thank you.” Purring, her face just a few tentative inches from his face, she smiled. “You surprise me, Cullen. It’s rare that someone can surprise me. I’m not entirely sure I like it.”

Unsure what to say he returned her smile, “my lady, I cannot make that decision for you.” 

Swiping a line of bloody dirt from his cheek she sighed heavily, “I hate titles. I don’t ever want you to speak my title in private. Please.” 

Letting her down he quirked his eyebrow at her, “as you wish, Diana.”

There was an awkward silence as both stood in the ring, neither moving. Finally, Cullen broke the tension, retrieving the towel he had offered her earlier, “you are still bleeding. May I?”

Diana stiffened as he dipped the cloth into a bucket of water, not far from the cloth bucket. As Cullen tenderly dabbed at the dirt and blood, she was surprised with how gentle he was. “I have elfroot paste in my chambers.”

“I have a jar in my office as well.” Cullen gripped her chin softly between his fingers as he dabbed at the cut across her chin and lip.

“Come with me. I’m sure I can’t reach everything.” Diana tried to smile, only cracking open the split lip. Seeing him hesitate, she remembered the letter from earlier regarding Samson. “We can go over the information on Samson’s possible location.”

Tossing the cloth into the corner he waved her to lead the way. With the daylight fading, there were scant few people left in the main hall. Even Varric had abandoned his usual post. By now he’d be in the tavern, placing bets on how many drinks it would take one of the Chargers before they started causing chaos. Leading him past the scaffolds and bits of construction, she quickly ushered him through her chamber doors. Climbing the stairs, she felt sore. She was very happy that she kept several restorative vials in her desk. A trick she’d picked up years ago and with a small book full of potion recipes she felt safe in her selection. “Come to my desk, my supplies are in the bottom draw. The wooden box, with the leaf carved into the top.” Walking towards her bed, she tugged her jerkin up over her head, feeling the strain in every muscle. 

Opening the drawer, he pulled the box out and placed it on the desk. Flicking open the latch he stared at the collection of vials, powders, satchels and jars. “I have never…” 

Coming around the desk she ran her fingers over several vials before selecting one filled with a purple, thick liquid, “this one. Only need a couple drops mixed with a scoop of this powder,” pulling a jar of blue powder out she grabbed a mug. “Would you be so kind as to put the kettle over the fire? I’ll make two.”

He turned his eyes from the hordes of bottles to see her standing before him in nothing but her smalls and bra band. Swallowing hard he took the kettle from the edge of the desk and placed it over the fire place. Bending down he added a few logs, trying to grant her some privacy.

“Take off your jerkin. It’s best to see what damage to decide the best course of treatment,” pulling a jar of thick, dark green paste out she sighed. “Please don’t be boyish with me. I’m still dressed and require your aid with cuts. I also need a better understanding of my bruising.” Placing the jar on the desk she chuckled, “yes, this will require your hands. Remove your gloves, please.”

Stoking the fire one last time he tossed the section of wood onto the pile and turned. Removing his gloves, he laid them carefully upon the desk, “you have cuts upon your lip and chin, a small abrasion above your eye, a large patch of…”

“Yes, the arm is going to be the most fun. We’ll need water and clothes, I have a fresh jug over here.” Retrieving a torso sized urn of fresh water, she set it at the foot of the desk, “I’ll toss the old water out of the…”

“Let me help,” walking to the basin, he picked it up and went to the balcony. Tossing the water over the edge he took it to desk. Setting it in a clear spot he poured fresh water into the bowl. 

Busy preparing clothe, she thanked him before checking on the kettle. Seeing steam begin to rise she mixed two cups worth of the odd ingredients. As she went about preparing them she laughed, “I’m sure you have many questions. Let me answer a few. These are my personal collection. Preparations for all different sorts of things. From antidotes, things to stop bleeding, bruising, cuts, even something to purge one’s stomach. You’d be surprised how useful that one is.”   
Tugging the jerkin over his head he felt his back stiffen. “Anything for soreness? Stiff muscles?”

Nodding she pulled several more vials, “it’ll take me a moment, but I can fix a balm for it. Enough for two. You rub me, and I’ll rub you.” Not looking up from her work she began mixing the powders and liquids with a healthy bit of tallow. “Would you kindly fill these two mugs with the boiling water? Stir for a few moments. It will turn from deep purple to light blue. Stop stirring when it turns light blue. Have no fear, there is no lyrium in my kit.”


	5. Sensual Healing

Obeying her request, he followed her instructions. “Is that tallow?”

“Don’t worry, no dogs suffered in making this tallow. It’s from rams. I find their fat is far more effective in preparations and it leaves the skin softer.” Finishing she caught him stirring the drinks. His brow knit tightly in focus as he stared into the mugs, waiting for the colour change. “You are adorable when you do that. Has anyone ever said that?”  
“Hmm?” He pulled the spoon out of the drinks as they flared a light blue, “you never said they would light up!”

“It’s a potion, of sorts. Have you never prepared potions?” Placing the jar beside the dark green paste she smiled, “let this one sit, a moment. Come, could you address my lip? I can’t see it to handle it myself.” Pointing to the green paste she nodded, “just a high concentration of elfroot, and bit of embrium and a touch of royal elfroot. Special blend from the Dalish tribe by Ostwick. Wonderful people.”

Applying a bit to his finger, he worked it into the cuts upon her face, “you really didn’t need me for this. I’m certain you can handle your own healing. By the supplies in that kit, I’d say you are quite used to tending to yourself.”

“Quite right,” Diana grinned as the elfroot stitched together the skin of her lip and chin. “I prefer your company and it seems this is the easiest way to get you alone, in my chambers and partially nude.”

Biting his own lip, he finished rubbing the bit of paste into her chin, his fingers gracing her jaw he shook his head, “I would follow you wherever you lead me.”

“Drink your potion. I warn you, it has an interesting side effect. Nothing, unpleasant, I promise.” Reaching she took the mugs off the desk. Handing him one she drew in a deep breath, “it has a floral smell and is quite nice on the tongue. After we can deal with… soreness.” Smirking she blew on the steam before taking a sip. 

Having accepted the cup, he wasn’t too sure what ‘interesting side effect’ meant but there was a calming feel about her and he threw caution to the wind. Sipping at the hot beverage, she was right. It was sweet, not overpoweringly so, just as if a bit of sugar had touched the tip of his tongue. The steam was thick and smelled like fresh picked flowers on a warm spring day. Hints of berries and a touch of citrus. He’d had plenty of hot drinks in his time and even more potions from this healer and that, but never anything that he actually enjoyed drinking. “It’s quite nice.”

Smirking into her cup she took the two jars, and motioned him to join her on the couch by her bed, “best restorative drink you’ll ever have.” Patting the spot beside her, she set the jars on the side table. 

Joining her he felt the swirl of heat spread from his core to his limbs. Continuing to drink down the unknown brew, he felt tingling throughout his body. “I’m… well...”

“That’s the bruising being purged and cleared from your skin and muscles. It isn’t uncomfortable, some find it amusing or ticklish.” Placing her empty cup on the table she sighed, “sadly it does nothing for soreness.” Grabbing the new mixture, she turned in her chair, “turn. Let me see your back.”

Straightening best he could he turned his back to her. “What did you mean by interesting…. Ah!” Loudly moaning he didn’t have much warning. She’d placed the ointment on her palms and began working it into his shoulders. It was hot, not scolding or hurtful, but like a good soak. The heat wasn’t what caused him to moan, nor the friction of her fingers kneading the knots from his upper back. No, it was the heightened sensitivity, the sudden sensation that raced to his core as her skin skimmed across his. “What… oh!” closing his eyes tightly he let his head fall forward as she continued to work in the ointment. Rubbing small tight circles over the thick, mass of knotted muscle tissue. 

“Shhh,” she purred, getting up on her knees to press her lips to his ear. “This is the joyous effect of that potion. Every bit of heated contact is like the Maker is blessing you personally.” Running her fingertips down his back she searched out every ache. Tending to every bit of soreness she could find. 

Moaning out her name he stretched his back straight up, “this is, impossibly good.” 

Diana chuckled as she rose up, breaking the contact, “come on, lay on the bed. I can reach your back better.” 

Cullen was half drunk on the sensation and was in no rush to deny more. Placing his now empty cup beside hers on the end table he proceeded to the bed, laying face down with his arms folded under his chin. 

Without him noticing she removed her bra band, and laid in upon the couch before joining him. Straddling his hips, she began working a bit more of the balm into his lower back, “how does that feel?”

“Incredible,” he half slurred out his eyes closed as he allowed the sensations to wash through him. Content that he was on his stomach, shielding his hardening length from sight.  
Pressing down she slid her chest against his back. Feeling him startle she sighed, “much better right?” 

“You… you removed…”

“How else will you get my back? Maker that would be quite the fight to get your fingers around that bit of tough cloth.” Sliding down beside him, she rested her chin on his arm, “unless you need a bit more work. I don’t mind.”

For some reason he felt bold. Blaming the strange concoction, he rolled onto his back, “perhaps a bit more work. If you don’t mind of course.”'

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth she felt excited. Tugging her hair from the mess of braid she let it spill over her chest, just barely covered her breasts. “oh, I do enjoy your line of thought.” Sitting up she went to return to her position over his hips. 

Barely getting her knee half way over his pelvis, he tugged her down flat against his chest. His hands were in her hair, tugging her closer as he licked his lips, “I may need a lot more work.” Feeling her cinch up towards him, trailed one hand one her bare back, to claim ownership of her rear. Hearing her keen out, and her eyes clench tightly he regripped her hair firmly in his hand. Earning him a louder, higher pitched excited whine. Slanting his lips over her, he hungrily devoured her mouth. Teeth and tongues scraping off each other as her hands flew to his neck and cheeks. 

She moaned wanting and needing as he kneaded the firm flesh of her backside. His fingers slipped between the fabric and her skin, as he began to kiss down her neck, “Cullen,” she breathily uttered as his teeth grazed her neck. 

Tracing the fresh pink mark left behind with his tongue he brushed his fingers over her entrance, “you wanted this.” Feeling how slick she was already, he toyed with her, barely pressing in, teasing his presence. “How badly do you want me? Need me? Crave me?” He felt empowered, their wrestling in the ring had only set his blood aflame before they got to this point. She was beauty, grace and bold enough to punch him right in the face. 

Her hands were already trying to untie the complex knot of his pants as he tormented her, “I’ve wanted you all morning. Since you pinned me the first time in the ring. I’d wanted to suck you off under the war table.” Tugging free the first knots she managed to pry enough of the material away to reach into his pants. 

It was like fire travelling down his spine and it ached. Friction, he needed friction, but there was a threat of ending too quickly and her words were making him throb. When her hand scrapped against the coarse hair trailing down his hips bucked. Yet he needed more, had to have more of her than the night before. Growling he snatched her hand, a wicked grin upon his lips forcing the scar to twitch. “On your back.”

Curious as to what he had in mind she complied. Laying her head against the fluffy pillow covered in rich Orlesian silk she threw her hands over her head. Gripping the wooden rungs of the headboard she bit down on her bottom lip. “Taking control, Commander?” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” unbuckling his belt he watched her pupils blow wide at his words. Holding the supple leather in his palm he grinned, “perhaps, I will take control.” Leaning over her, he looped the leather around her wrists, securing them to the rungs of the headboard before fastening the clasps. Giving it a sharp tug he was pleased with the hold, “if I hurt you, or you wish me to stop…”

“Lavender. You’ll hear me say lavender.” Wriggling her shoulders back into a more comfortable position, she was excited to see what he would do. 

If he was aching before it was nearing torturous, the pressure building as he jerked his pants down, smalls as well. Standing bare before her, he shivered. Crawling up the bed he looped his fingers into her smalls, dragging them slowly down her body, followed with peppered kisses. Kisses to her stomach, thighs, as he eased her legs apart. He could feel her tension under him, feel the excitement boiling under her skin, yet there was a chance for more. Seeing her red silk scarf hanging off the edge of the bedframe he snatched it.   
With her eyes covered by the soft fabric her senses were heightened. His hands trailed over her skin, barely applying any pressure at all and it was all too much. Painfully, not enough, “Cullen, I… I need…” her words were choked off as his lips kissed lower still, against the fold of her leg. Pushing the leg up over his shoulder she was breathing frantically. He dragged out the anticipation. Open mouth kisses, pressed against her thighs, as he edged ever closer to her core. 

He could smell her. Feel the sparks of energy arching over her body as he teased closer. Blowing against her core, he wallowed in the ecstasy he was pulling from her. She was bucking her hips, seeking the friction he had been denying her and he licked his lips. Flattening his tongue, he ran it up her slit from the bottom to the perfect, swollen pearl.   
Tugging against the leather belt she was overwhelmed with the sudden contact. She let out a gasping cry as his tongue teased and swirled around her pearl. Sweat was beading up at the base of her neck, the small of her back as he worked to take her tumbling over the edge. 

Diana was anything but quiet as he circled his tongue once more, savouring the uniqueness of her that danced in his mouth. Sucking her in, he felt her rise off the bed. Flicking his tongue back and forth, rapidly he knew she would hit her peak in moments. Easing a curled finger inside of her, he pumped in rhythm with his tongue. 

“Ah…. Cullen…. I….” with a roaring trill she felt her whole world tremble and burst. Bright, white and searing heat pouring through her, over her and surrounding her. Pin prickling covered her skin, as he rode out her pulses before feeling him shift. Gasping for breath she was half limp when her legs were thrust up over his hips. 

Pain. Feverous heat tugged at him. He needed release, needed more than the soft friction against the bed. Angling towards her entrance, he slicked himself before dipping inside. Pushing forward his head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus. Tried to prevent his end from rushing over him too quickly. Steadying himself, breathing deeply to try to calm his nerves, he hilted himself before moving. 

“Please… my wrists…” limply tugging she was breathless.

Chuckling Cullen agreed. Leaning down to kiss her lips as he undid the belt. Catching her arms, he laid them beside her, “easy, you won’t be able to feel your arms for a while.” Lifting her up, he held her in his arms, still seated deeply inside her. Her legs were still over his hips as he helped her pull her arms around his neck. With the blindfold still on, he began rocking, grinding against her. 

Diana’s head fell back as she became engulfed in the sensations spilling over her. His lips were at her jaw, trailing down her neck and grazing the swell of her breasts. It was sensual and slow, loving and personal. It staggered her, to be treated with such tenderness. “Cullen,” she sighed out, her throat nearly raw. 

“Shhh, enjoy.” He stroked the hair from her face, back and over her shoulders. An arm around her, along the small of her back, he pressed her to him as he kept his steady pace.   
Rocking her own hips against his, she wanted something beyond this slow pace. With the sensation still singing high inside her, she couldn’t cope with his delicate caresses. “I… harder, please.” She was thankful for the blindfold, hiding the terror in her eyes. 

Sensing something was wrong, he didn’t want to ruin this for her. “Harder?” He was looking for reassurance, that it was what she wanted. When he saw her nod, he wasn’t too sure what to do. “How do you want…”

“Fuck me from behind, hard, don’t stop.” 

Swallowing hard, he stopped rocking. Helping her get into position. Biting his bottom lip, he wasn’t sure he would last long this way. It was already too much, she was too much. Guiding himself back into her, he watched her head shoot up as she moaned loudly. Clearly this angle was affecting her more than before. Again, she echoed her wishes, “harder!” Biting down upon his lip till it throbbed in pain he began snapping his hips into her. Closing his eyes, he was trying to think of anything, anything that would let this last for more than the few minutes he was fearing. As he tried going over reports in his head, Diana began to cry out, and he could feel her squeezing against him. Content with her satisfaction he began picking up his pace. Firmly snapping into her backside, loud slaps of skin on slick skin filling her bedroom chambers. 

Grunting aloud he was nearing his end quickly, having denied himself for so long. Reaching over to her he tugged free the blindfold. Running his hand over the ridges of her spine, he stopped at the dimples of her lower back. His other hand gripped her hips tightly, so much so his knuckles were nearly white, and his blunted fingernails were guaranteed to be leaving deep set imprints in her flesh. As he slammed his hips into her, she was screaming, muffled into her pillow, fingernails clawing at the rungs of her headboard. As the sweat began to trickle down his back, and his temples he was chasing his need. Eyes closed, gripping her tightly he swatted her ass. Earning high whine of excitement, which made him weak. “Say my name,” he was delirious, nearly there and fucking her nearly as hard as he could manage. 

“Cullen!” she screamed out, turning her face from the pillows as she braced herself, pushing back into him. “Spank me again.” 

Her velvet voice and the want pushed him over the edge. As the tremor came over him from his toes to his finger tips, he slapped her a couple more times, buried as deeply inside of her as he could. Feeling the vibrations through her, taking his orgasm to another high. “Diana… Maker…” Half collapsing on top of her he was struggling to get air in his lungs and they burned. 

Purring she helped him into her bed, drawing the blankets up around him, “multiples. Rare for men, but I’ve heard they are… draining.” Curling into his body she snuggled herself tightly to his side. 

He was still stuck in a cloud of euphoria. Nothing, ever, had felt like this. It was like he was drunk, out of his mind, as he lay upon his back. Staring at the clothe covered canopy of her four-poster bed. How in the Void did he end up like this? It still hadn’t connected with his brain, and worse yet he was falling asleep. Trying to utter something, some semblance of a question but Diana’s finger touched his lips. “Sleep, we’ll talk later.” Wrapping her arm over his shoulder they both slipped into a deep sleep.


	6. Suds and Solace

Rubbing his eyes, he wasn’t sure where he was, or what had happened. The folded, fabric overhead was foreign to him and he had a moment of panic before his memory slipped back into the here and now. Rolling over and rising he was suddenly aware that he was alone. With his eyes adjusting to the room, he looked around to see everything as it was before he fell asleep. Two mugs still perched on the table by the couch even her box of herbs and powders, and vials sitting upon her desk. She, was no where to be seen. 

Pushing off the bed to rise, his hand hit something that didn’t feel right. Grasping the item, he pulled it before him eyes. Parchment. Upon it, neat writing he’d seen a thousand times before. It was a note from Diana: My dearest Cullen, rest my dear. You slept horribly. Screaming and tossing and turning. Utterances no one should hear. I rose early to get us a fresh breakfast. I shall return soon. Please don’t leave. I will have fresh clothes and your armor upon my return. Yours, Diana.

Maker, how did this all come to be? Not but a couple days ago they were at each others’ throats. Now, he had bedded her. Twice. She was even bringing him food and clothing! Trying to figure everything out he sat with the blankets pooled in his lap, reading and rereading her letter. Hearing the faint click of the door he instinctively covered himself, best he could. 

“Wonderful, you haven’t left.” Diana heaved the large tray over the railing and onto the couch, a sack flung over her shoulder. “Fresh clothes and your armor in the bag. Also, your papers on Samson, since we didn’t get a chance to discuss him.” Snickering she pulled a section of toasted bread from the tray. “Seems the tailors are arriving early. Best to keep your head down. If you’re lucky they’ll get everyone else first and you last.”

Staring, mouth agape, Cullen wasn’t entire sure how to respond, “Diana… could we…”

Passing him a steaming cup of tea she nodded, “I guess we should. You seem confused, and I… not so much so.” She was busy moving about, pushing the large tub away from the wall and lining her soaps and oils out. 

“What is this?” Cullen spat out, trying his hardest to seem stronger than he felt right then.

Standing straight she placed the last bottle down on a tray, hanging off the side of the tub. “This? It appears to be a bathing tub. And if I’m correct, there will be a small parade of servants bringing buckets of water in a few moments. Might want to draw the curtains to the bed.” Winking she chuckled as he scrambled to close the drapes. 

From behind the fabric wall, he could hear footsteps rapidly pacing in and out and the sound of water sloshing into the tub. Diana merrily joked and chatted freely with the servants as they laughed and proceeded to fill the tub to her desired level. “Please let Dagna know I am forever thankful for that rune. It makes it impossible to get caught in a frozen tub, again.” He could make out her laughter and the subtle chime of coins. “Go, relax, have a drink on me.” More merry chatter and the footsteps quieted down, the door latched shut and the faint click of a lock. 

“You can come out now,” she chuckled as she began working the ties to her shirt, tugging free each piece of clothing and letting them pile at her feet. 

“Diana, what if…” he wrenched the curtains open to see her standing bare before him, checking the temperature of the water with her finger tips before easing herself in. “I…”

“Come, it’s warm, and you need a scrub as badly as I do.” Diana sighed slipping down into the heated pool. “It won’t get cold, I promise you that.” 

There wasn’t a good enough reason he could come up with, not to get into that tub. Tossing the blanket back he hastily entered the tub, one large enough for almost another full body after his own. Easing down, he couldn’t help the relieved sigh that came from him. 

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? One of the few perks of saving Thedas and constantly being ass deep in demons. Or so Varric tells me.” Diana dipped her head into the water, focusing on her washing and scrubbing as she spoke. “You want to know about this? About what is happening or more so, why. I fancy you. I think you are an incredibly strong man both mentally and physically. You keep me guessing and intrigued. Few, if any at all have done that in my life. To say that I am lost in you, would be an understatement.” She hadn’t looked at him as she spoke, voice unwavering as she continued to lather and wash her hair. 

Cullen sat there, soaking in the heat and her words. Not entirely sure what to make of the information he decided he’d settle on stewing it over in his spare time. Daylight was ticking away and there was always so much to do. Watching her lather her body, bubbles clinging to her chest as the water lapped at her tawny nipples, he didn’t really feel the normal rush to get to his office. 

Easing further down into the water he closed his eyes. Whatever this was, he could get used to it. His eyes fluttered open when he felt the water shift around him. “Diana?” Her hands were on his chest, then fingers rubbing circles at his temples, easing any stress that may be there.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely a whisper on the breeze, “I never knew it could be this bad.”

Barely opening an eye, he shrugged, “it is my penance and I will see it through.” Dipping his head back into the water, he had almost forgotten the luxury of bathing. Sitting in an enchanted tub, filled to the brim with steaming water. It took every ache imaginable from his body, from his bones to his muscles. Carry away his stress and easing the deepening furrow between his eyebrows. The one Leliana constantly prodded him about. 

Before he could reach for the bottle of hair wash, her hand were scrubbing and massaging his scalp. “You have a gift with your hands. It feels wonderful.”

“My secret talent, don’t tell anyone. I’ll have a ton of people lined up to your office,” giggling she dipped her hands in the water, “you can rinse now.” 

As he washed the soap from his hair he felt he water move again. This time, Diana was stepping out, grabbing a thick towel and drying herself. “Where do we go from here?” He wasn’t sure how that had come from his mouth, but he had spat it out before he could think. Waiting for an answer he started to soap up his body. 

Squeezing the water from her hair, she began digging through her clothes, “I would prefer you to remain open minded. A relationship is something I build slowly and tend to with care. Trust me, and I shall trust you.” Selecting her outfit, she finished drying herself and placed the towel next to the tub, “here. Use mine.” 

It wasn’t really an answer and yet in her way it was. Cullen had to except that for now he was in the dark. Blissful, sweet, darkness. Finishing he prepared to get out of the tub.  
“Today will be busy. Tailors’ sticking people, reports, messages, all that nonsense. Plus, there is this Samson business. A location has been possibly found. We can’t risk missing the ball and the Empress being lost to us. After the ball we can make arrangements to head to this so-called Shrine of Dumat.” Finishing buckling the last clasp on her leather cinch she reached for her brush and began untangling her mass of curls. “We are leaving soon for the ball. Or I would ride now.” 

Wrapping the towel about his waist he was digging through the bag of clothes, “I appreciate the thought. Leliana’s people are keeping eyes on it. He won’t be going anywhere soon. Saving the Empress must take priority.” 

“Inquisitor, I have an important letter for you. I’m slipping it under the door. Would you see me after you have finished your meeting about Samson,” Josephine’s voice tittered through the door. 

“Of course. Have the tailor around then as well. We can kill two birds with a single stone.” Yelling back, Diana caught Josephine’s retreat as she picked up the letter. Reading through the letter she shrugged her shoulders and tossed it haphazardly upon her desk. “I have hair grease you may borrow if you’d like. I enjoy the curls, but you don’t seem to so much.” 

Beginning to pull on his armor he nodded, “please. And could you explain the reaction from the potion you brewed last night? I’ve never encountered anything like that before.”

Smirking she sunk into the couch, watching him go about his preening and dressing. “It purges the body of toxins, rids the skin of bruising as well. It has a minor side effect, hypersensitivity. I usually tend to myself at such times when I use it. My supplies are beginning to run low. I’ll need to either commission more or forage for my own.” Snatching a fresh apple from the tray she rubbed it against her shirt, shinning it before sinking her teeth into the firm flesh. “You’re lyrium withdrawal was the unknown factor. Interestingly it seemed to tame your nightmares, if only twenty percent. I’ll have to play with the mixtures if I hope to alter that.” 

Buckling the last strap of his breast plate Cullen wasn’t sure what to say. “you took into concern my withdrawal? Why?”

Dabbing at her lip with the cloth from the tray, she shrugged, “I care. You are suffering, whether you deserve to or not is not my place to judge. I cannot bare seeing you suffer. To be frank, I don’t care whether you enjoy your torture or not. I detest seeing you put through it, and would seek to change it.” 

Dragging his mantle over his pauldrons he let her words sink in. He had always thought his pain was penalty for having failed in his life. Failed at being the proper templar, failed at knowing right from wrong and furthermore doing nothing. Hawke was the one to change his mind. To make him see the person before the magic. Only, too late. Far too late and he had soaked in self-loathing since the fall of his Knight Commander. Pain. That had been what grounded him, what kept him aware. Now, he wasn’t so sure about any of it. In less than two days Diana had turned his entire world on its head. 

“You don’t know how to take me. You think this is some silly joke, or perhaps your died from your withdrawal. That you are now enjoying the rapture of your darkest fantasies.” Licking her fingers clean, she placed the core back on the tray. Rising she stood beside him, carding her fingers through his hair. “I like you Commander. Very much so.” Trailing her fingers over his cheek she sighed, “you are dangerous. A bit of darkness inside you, but harmless to those you protect. Seek the healers here, or Solas. You shouldn’t suffer so. You’ve paid your penance. Now let it go.” Stretching up on her tippy toes she placed a warm kiss upon his cheek. “Come, if my Commander is to be at his best for troop training, and preparations for the ball, he must be properly fed.”


	7. Orders

Barking orders at the recruits he growled, “do it again! If you think a battalion of red templars, fresh with lyrium will be kinder to you, I dare say go face one!” Picking up the discarded training shield he rammed it into the chest of the laughing recruit, “do you believe you can best a red? Perhaps even me?”

Most of the recruits were wise enough to quiet down and step away from the laughing fool. But rarely are fool’s wise, “all you do is bark at us. Ain’t even seen you fight. Heard they only keep you around to look pretty.”

Cullen wore a wicked grin. This wasn’t the first recruit to defy him, or challenge him and he knew well enough it wouldn’t be the last time. Cullen trained hard, daily. Harder than the men he pushed. Push ups, sit ups, running, heavy, repeated lifting. He did it all, twice a day, on top of sparring and training in the combat ring. Craning his neck from one shoulder to the other he felt a rush of adrenaline pass through him, “if you believe you can best me so easily, then put your sword where your mouth is. Get in the ring.”   
Lysette reached for his arm, “sir, you really don’t…”

Growling low he shook his head, “no. The men need to respect their commanding officer and if they don’t by treatment then they will by example. I do not have time for this, and the Inquisitor’s army must be ready if and when Corypheus decides to strike.” 

Lysette dropped her arm. She’d seen him tear apart the last recruit and while she knew his methods were right, she hated seeing such an uneven match. “He doesn’t stand a chance,” letting her hand drop she turned to walk away.

Diana was watching from Dorian’s corner, the small window a perfect line to the training field. “He’s going to destroy that young fool,” Diana snickered, “serves him right. Better chance of growling at a mabari in war and possibly walking away then face that lion.” Sighing she returned her attention to Dorian, “forgive me dear cousin, you brought out the good wine. I should be paying you the utmost attention.”

“Quite so,” Dorian huffed, “but I see you have your sights on that gorgeous man. By the sparkle in those crafty eyes, I’d say you’ve had more than you ‘eyes’ on him. Spill it, and I’ll bring another vintage from my private stock.” 

“I’m sure a twenty-silver bet with a blonde elf also makes one extra interested in my stories.” Sipping from the goblet she loved the rich body and full burst of bright citrus and subtle berries that his Tevinter stock carried.

Topping his own cup, he grinned, “ah, stories, so you’ve enjoy his essence more than once. I do hope you are being gentle with him, and safe.”

“I brew my herbs as I should, chart things as I normally do. I know how to avoid things.” Giggling she waved him closer and he dragged his chair tight to hers. “More than once, yes, in my bed, and his. Dreadfully cold in that damned loft.” 

Dorian burst into laughter, “more than twenty silvers my dear. I’ve got a sovereign out of all this.” Rubbing his hands together he shook himself from his fit of giggles. “Don’t spare a single detail, I want to hear it all.”

Blushing Diana tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear, “I… I actually came to speak to you about something else. I… I hate speaking emotions, I fail so terribly at them. I… I worry for him Dorian. A lot. I… I don’t know what this is called, it… is most distressing!” Slumping into her chair, she curled her feet up tight. Rolling the goblet in her hand, the smooth burgundy liquid nearly hitting the rim, she focused on the drink in her hand. 

“If you’ve come to ask my advice on love, you’ve picked a sore choice. I have no idea what love is or how to find it. I’m more accustomed to the random roll in the night that leads to a morning of strange apologizes and rushed dressing.” Snickering a lightbulb came to his head, “I’d bother the Seeker. Her head is full of that fluffy stuff. Varric’s terrible literature clouding that stoic warrior’s good sense.” 

Diana bit her lip, hard. “Damnit, you’re supposed to be more experienced then I am in this department.” 

“I have a story, which may help. But it’s going to require a lot more drink and all of your naughty evenings before I begin to get into that.” Pointing to his glass, Diana topped him up.

Grinning she looked past him, “this stays between us, dear cousin, or so help me. I will shave your moustache off in your sleep!”

 

“Do you yield,” Cullen hadn’t even broken a sweat as he easily bested the raw recruit. Standing over the man, his blade pointed at his throat as Cullen watched the anger in the man’s eyes subside to pure terror. “I won’t ask again, do you yield!” All the man before him could muster was a half nod as he scampered back. “Get him out of my sight. If he wishes to continue efforts in being part of the Inquisition, then be dressed and all the ready come the morrow.” Walking away he stuffed the practice blade and shield away, “tomorrow we work on shields. I want each man ready for steel by the days end. If you don’t think you can handle this, walk away now. I’m sure the Ambassador has need for some letter carriers.” 

“Ser,” another recruit came forward, hand fiddling with her jerkin. “Aren’t you being a bit harsh, ser? We want to serve, truly we do but…”

Shaking his head, he stopped her dead in her tracks, “I am not your mother. Nor does the enemy employ hugs and kind words when they advance. If you cannot handle a berating for failing to learn your lesson, then I doubt you’ll last long against the enemy. I am here to train you. Mentally, physically and build you into an army that could level the very mountains if the Inquisitor demanded it. My harshness today, will save your life. I will not apologize for that.” Heaving a sigh, he licked at his dry lips, “what is your name? I have not seen you before.” 

“Larisa, ser, my name is Larisa.” Blushing she tucked some of her blonde hair back from her face.

Patting her on the shoulder he softened, “Larisa, being a soldier is…. Difficult. Do you have other skills? Something that might be best suited to easier tasks?”

“I was a farm hand in my village and I used to mix healing herbs for the animals. Know a fair bit about that.” She was bright red as she stood before him.

“Go see Master Dennet in the stables. I am certain he can make better use of you than I. You are not suited for the sword.” Taking the training weapons from her, he stacked them on the rack, aware that a small crowd was watching. “Dismissed Larisa. May the Maker watch over you.” 

 

“Well that was quite the tale,” Dorian fanned at himself with a book off the shelf. “It does answer some questions. But I can see where it poses a half dozen more.” 

Sighing she polished off the last of the second bottle, “I know! He was so sweet and sensitive and how he held me tightly…” shaking her head she tried to break the thought. “I don’t know what to do. What this is or how to do any of this.” Slapping her hands on her lap she was clearly upset. “I had thought a single night and it would wash this crazy wanting from me, but no. The more time I spend with him the less time I wish to be apart. It is maddening!”

Sipping the last dredges from his goblet he set it upon the small table by the window. “I don’t profess to be an expert in the area, far from it, but I would say without a doubt. You my dear; are in love.” 

“No, this can’t be it. No. Me? No, never.” Waving her hand at him she tried to fluff off the idea. Diana Trevelyan was known for many things. Emotional attachments to anything, was not one of them. Placing her cup down, she couldn’t get her head around the idea. 

Before Dorian could utter another word, Lysette stood before them, clearing her throat loudly before requesting a moment with the Inquisitor. “By all means, dear cousin. I’ll be here, with another bottle whenever you have some more deliciously sordid details.” 

Diana rose and motioned for Lysette to walk with her. Finding a secluded section of the library, she stopped, “I’m all ears. What troubles you?”

“Commander Cullen, ma’am. I feel he has been excessive with the troops. Pushing far harder than he needs to and I do not know where else to speak.” Hanging her head, she tried to maintain the stoic exterior of the hardened templar.

“Have you spoken with Seeker Cassandra? What was her take on his performance?” Diana remained emotionless as she heard the woman out, but something inside bubbled and grinded when the woman spoke. 

“Lady Cassandra claims he is preforming his task with high efficiency.” Lysette was biting her tongue, still not budging an inch in her resolve.

Nodding Diana caught the subtle tell, “you are upset because he is harsh. Harsher than you wish him to be. Is there an issue between the Commander and you? Have you tried speaking with him?” Clasping her hands behind her back she was wearing a grin that would have made the Maker himself punch her square in the nose. 

“My lady, there is nothing between the Commander and I!” Her face shot to an instant red as she took a hasty few steps back.

“Perhaps there isn’t. But I can clearly see you fancy him, in some way or other. I apologize if his harshness distorts your perfect image of a gentle lover. He has a job to do, for the Inquisition none the less. I sincerely hope this doesn’t continue to be an issue.” Lifting her eyebrow, she glared Lysette down. “Now, you can speak to the Commander yourself or I can speak to him. In fairness to you, I won’t mention your name when I speak with him. Which method do you prefer?” 

“If you could…”

“Consider it done. Any other issues before you leave?” Diana knew there was nothing further as the woman bowed her head and walked away. Strutting away, Diana walked down the steps of the rotunda to the main hall. It was later in the day and she had already dealt with her list of self imposed chores. Her quarters, that was the next stop on her list. By now Josephine must be in a panic, wanting her to get fitted properly for this soiree. Cresting the steps to her chambers she could hear the woman tittering away with another, all in Antivan. “Sorry to be late, had a minor issue to handle. If you could kindly bring the Commander here, I will stand for your measurements while I address the issue fully.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. Work hardly waits for ‘proper timing’ let alone a schedule.” Turning to her left Josephine whispered to her aid before sending the woman off. “I’m sure you have yet to eat as well, same as our Commander. A good meal while we work will be a double benefit.” 

“Perfectly planned, as usual Josie.” Diana nodded. Pay attention to the small group of women as they pulled fabrics and lengths of measuring tape. “I’ll be down to my smalls in a moment. Are you prepared to begin?”

“Yes, your worship,” the eldest woman bowed as she settled the small platform in the center of the room. “Are you sure you wish your General to see you in such…”

“It cannot be helped. Were I to sit upon this issue it will set everyone back. It does not bother me in the least.” Catching Josephine groan under her breath Diana smiled. “Have no fear Josie, he is a professional and we are discussing business.” Untying her blouse, she pulled it over her head, setting it on her bed neatly. Followed by her leggings, setting her boots to rest against the footboard. 

 

“Surely you are jesting?” Cullen stood at his desk, arms folded tightly.

“No ser. The Inquisitor requires you for a matter of duty, in her chambers now. She warns, that she is busy with the tailor and apologizes for her lack of apparel. She claims it cannot be helped and the matter is urgent.” Swallowing hard, the young girl was pleading Cullen would just go. She didn’t dare return to Josephine without him in tow. 

Clenching his jaw, he knew the young woman was one of Josephine’s aids. Not known for making stories up or fooling with staff. “Fine, I shall be there in a moment. I wish to check my messages.”

“Please, ser. She says it’s urgent and I wasn’t to leave without you.” Now the young woman was bright red and beginning to sweat. “Please, ser, I don’t want to get in trouble with the Ambassador. Please.”

Swiping the papers up in his hand, he felt guilty, “fine. I have my papers, take me to the Inquisitor.” 

 

“Ouch!” Diana scowled, “that is now the twelfth time I have been pricked. I understand attention to smaller details, but Maker help me, I’m going to bleed all over the wretched thing!” 

“I apologize, my lady,” the eldest woman swatted at one of the younger assistants. “It won’t happen again.”

“Unlikely,” Diana huffed under her breath as the latch clicked open loudly. “Josephine, we have guests.”

Cullen stomped up the steps, the young girl before him, “I was just getting to my messages. Is this really necessary….” His words caught tight in his throat as he saw her standing in the middle of the room, with only her smalls and bra bands on. Bits of fabric half pinned to her torso. Trying to feign reading his messages he came to the desk where Josephine sat, half perched on the edge. 

“Yes, Commander,” maintaining her calm she caught the brief look as he came in. “I have a complaint about your training skills. I wished to…”

“Training?! This is about earlier, isn’t it? Lysette couldn’t stomach my dealing with an upstart recruit.” Grunting he sat at the desk, three large trays, heaping with food before him.   
Smirking Diana tried not to chuckle, not wishing to be further perforated by the seamstress. “Possibly. I dealt with it best I could. Have you had issues before, while disciplining a recruit?” Stopping she motioned her head to the trays, “dig in, we accounted for your presence.”

“Maker thank you,” tugging his gloves off he was thinking it over as he plucked at the trays. “Twice before, if memory serves me correct. A similar issue. I was told I was too harsh. By Lysette as well.” Turning the idea over in his head he sighed, “I dare to guess, was it Lysette who sought you out?”

“I promised not to mention a name, I never said I wouldn’t agree if it was correctly guessed. That doesn’t mean you come down on her. She’s been handled and shouldn’t pose a problem with your training. I’m guessing your methods fly away from the templar standard.” Diana felt the needle graze her skin as the seamstress snipped and sewed away. 

“No even a little,” Josephine snickered. “He is harsh but understandably so. Cassandra recommended him for this reason. His experience in real world battle makes his training more valuable. He isn’t apt to lie or cover the reality of the truth from them.” 

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Cullen gave her a tip of his head as he read over a few letters. “I am not concerned. Only if it continues to be an issue. Was there a reason given for her malcontent?” 

A new feeling popped up. Something Diana had never experienced before. It tugged at her stomach and made her jaw grind when she thought of Lysette. Her thought lead her to seeing Lysette with her arms around Cullen’s neck, her lips against his. “I..” weighing it again she closed her eyes, “she is supposed to speak to you on such things.” There were too many eyes, ears and for her to throw such things out. It would do her no good, to make such a scene. 

Cullen had managed to catch that one. Something was off with Diana and while he wasn’t entirely sure, this wasn’t the time to discuss it. Reading over his letter he was lost in them when finally, he caught his name, “sorry, I was buried in my messages. Ambassador, I have answers to three of your letters. Since you are here, it may save us time.” 

Josephine laughed and whispered to her assistant, sending her rushing down the steps. “If we are to discuss business for the evening, I have sent for Leliana. Best to be done with it for the night and not have to think on it later. I’m sure the Inquisitor will wish some time to relax this evening, given the amount of work the seamstresses have yet to do.”

“Thank you, for reminding me I’m a living doll over here.” Another pin graced her rear, “being pricked in the ass more times that I can count.” 

Cullen snorted, snickering like a young boy as he covered his mouth. 

Diana whipped her head over to glare at him, “find something amusing farm boy?” 

“Not at all Inquisitor. It is a tragedy, to be forced to endure such torture. If not a but amusing.” Flipping papers back and forth with Josephine, he borrowed Diana’s quill and ink to scribble out his orders. 

Leliana came bounding up the steps, “my Inquisitor, that dress will be stunning once it is finished!” 

“Thank you. I believe I have already bled in it,” Diana gritted, her arms and legs getting tired from standing in one position. “How much longer?”

“We are nearly done. We will take the garment back to our shop and finish the stitching there.” The elder woman, scolded her workers to hurry along. 

Leliana had a small bundle of papers in her arms and joined the group by the desk. Diana stood uncomfortably while the three chatted away, swapping papers and finalizing things. “Is there any need for an Inquisitor when you three work so well together?” Smiling weakly, she was getting tired.

Cullen could tell she was exhausted and his heart ached for her. “My lady, without you I believe this would all fall apart.” His voice was soft and tender, as he blushed brightly seeing the other women turn to look at him. “I’m just… well… that really looks uncomfortable…” chuckling awkwardly his hand flew to his neck, working the muscles and squeezing tightly. 

“It really is,” Diana gave a half chuckle as the women beneath her chatted away in their native tongue. “I am starving and would love a drink and to sit with all of you.”

Maker he didn’t know why he did it, but he stacked a few items on a small plate and walked to her. “My lady, please.” Holding out the plate he felt foolish, ‘I’m sorry you cannot move. Which would you like?” 

Diana was beyond confused but her stomach growled loudly, “a bit of cheese would be nice.” Blushing brightly, she was surprised. Blushing, as her Commander gingerly lifted a cube of cheese to her lips. 

“Let it be said the Commander really did everything in his power to keep the Inquisitor in line,” chuckled Leliana. “Very thoughtful and kind Cullen.”  
“I… well…” 

“I appreciate it,” Diana cut him off, smiling as she savoured the small morsel. “It means a lot to have such wonderful people in my life.” 

He stood by her and carefully fed her while the seamstresses began tidying up and removing the layers of intricate gown. He stayed by her as she half stumbled getting off the platform, into his arms, “I have you.”

“Yes, you do,” she blushed, trying to get her legs to work and her arms to function. 

Leliana and Josephine were deep in conversation as Cullen helped her to her bed. Helped her get her weak arms through the sleeves and pull up her leggings. With each boot, the feeling in her arms began to come back. Finishing tying her boots herself she finally managed to walk on her own over to her desk. “Alright, let’s go over the few details you need me to. I’m famished so forgive me if I eat while you speak, I am listening.” 

By the time they finished their meeting the stars blanketed the sky, and the trays were all but picked clean. Diana yawned, “I believe that is everything. I only wish to speak to the Commander in private. He had plans involving Samson and made a request. Ladies, rest well. Halamshiral will be upon us far sooner than we are ready for.” 

Both uttered their goodnights before heading down the steps, a bundle of papers in both their hands. Diana watched them head down the stairs, her ears pricked up high to hear the tell tall click of her bedroom door latching shut. As the door closed and the metallic clang caught her eye she gave a quick ten count, before turning to Cullen, who was still writing away. “About Samson, you did have a request, and I haven’t listened yet. Please, what did you need to speak with me about?”

“I was going to make a request that I accompany you on your journey.” Setting the quill down he capped off her inkpot. “If that isn’t a problem.”

“Done, and done. You are aware, that the red lyrium is far worse than the usual blue? I can’t truly believe that you won’t be affected by the way it, does what it does.” Diana felt the idea crawl over her spine. 

Cullen leaned back into his chair, “it is a risk I am willing and ready to take.”


	8. Dance With Me

“Is there anything else you need of me Diana?” Cullen straightened up, his armor clearly becoming a burden so late in the day. 

“Come to the tavern with me.” Smiling she reached for his hand, “Maryden is set to sing in shortly and I do love her music.” Seeing him hesitate she turned on the charm, fluttering her long lashes, “please. I would love to spend some time with you this evening.”

There really wasn’t anything that he had planned for the night ahead. Nothing at all in fact. “I suppose I can attend. Let me change and I’ll meet you at the tavern.” 

Shaking her head, she puckered her lips, “change here. We can head over together.”

Beginning to undo the buckles of his vambraces he gave in to her, “alright. I’ll need…”

Her fingers began working the leather strapping of his breastplate. Licking her lips, she was half in his lap as she undid the multitude of clasps holding his breast plate and pauldrons on. Pausing, she caught his eyes, a look of stunned curiosity reflecting at her. “Am I…”

“No, no, not at all,” he had stopped working on his bracers. Her features were soft, and even with the spice of her perfume coming into his nose, he could see a tenderness she wasn’t known for showing. It tugged at him, made him dare to think of things best not thought of. “Should we, get going?” 

“You still have on your,” waving at his arms she smirked.

“Right!” Returning his focus to his bracers, she tugged free his breast plate, carefully laying it upon her couch. 

When he was finally out of his armor he felt his shoulders lighten. Craning his neck back and forth, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the lightness. “Maker that feels good.” He was half leaned over the desk, letting the welcome and familiar sensation wash over him. It was the next sensation he wasn’t prepared for. “Diana,” he moaned out as her hands were working his shoulders. Her fingers were carefully kneading and easing the strains of the day away. 

“Or, we could stay in,” purring next to his ear she continued to massage away his aches. “I have a bottle of the finest Fereldan sack mead, and since we’ve already eaten, we could get cozy.” 

“Far more tempting than the loud tavern, if I am to be honest.” Cullen rolled his neck back, feeling the muscles and bones give and ease out the last of the days stresses with a chorus of soft pops and cracks. 

Kissing his neck, Diana was excited, “good. Get undressed and get in bed. I’ll get the mead and glasses.” Leaving his side, she grabbed two glasses from her bookcase. Opening a box on the bottom tier, she pulled out a demijohn of deep amber ale and strolled back towards her bed. Undressing, she looked over her shoulder, “coming?”

Stumbling to unlace his boots, he was fumbling to get undressed. Tugging and pulling, pushing and wrenching. He was like a teenage boy, rushing to get to her. Discarding clothes, he rushed to get into the bed, a glass of fine quality mead waiting for him, “Diana.”

“I know,” she grinned cozying up to his chest, “this is wonderful.” 

Chuckling he sipped at his cup, watching the soft fluttering snow tumble down outside of her balcony doors, “I never imagine courting could ever be like this. Especially not a high-born lady.”

“I am no lady, I can assure you of that,” laughing Diana followed him. Indulging in the sweet honey richness of the drink. “I may have been born a noble, and know well enough how to pull that weight, but I despise them all.” 

Downing his drink, Cullen didn’t know what to say. He’d seen her use that nobility like a tower shield, ramming through her enemies and deflecting anything that might harm her image, or the Inquisitions. Here in her quarters she was naked beside him, in more ways then one. He wanted to get to know the real Diana Trevelyan, not the stuffy heiress, Herald of Andraste or Inquisitor. This Diana he wanted to know, the one curled so tightly at his side, wrapped in his warmth and drawing random symbols upon his chest. “Then what do you like?” 

Grinning widely, she looked into his eyes, “I like simple. I like plain and low born. I’m very fond of you farm boy.” Pressing up she kissed his lips, soft and quick, “very fond of you. You aren’t like the rest. No need to put on airs, or try to be something you aren’t. You stick to your beliefs no matter who judges you.” Running her hand over his cheek she sighed, “incorruptible. You can’t be bought and sold. Traded and betrayed. You’re too smart, too good for that.” 

Kissing her forehead, he couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see how anyone of her caliber would ever find someone like him to their liking. Broken, wounded and healing. Possibly for the rest of his life, haunted by the nightmares of his past. Yet, here was this beautiful siren, caring not a button for his past. She wanted, needed, and enjoyed the man before her. “I don’t know…”

“We never do, farm boy. Just except that I like you. I want to spend my free time with you, and I want to get to know all about you. Everything. No secrets.” Grabbing the bottle, she refilled their cups. 

Chatting and drinking both were feeling the effects of the liquor heavily when Diana went to put the cups down. Leaning over to the table she was giggling, both over the point of buzzed and well into being very drunk. “We drank the entire bottle. Dorian is going to be very angry with me.”

“Dorian? Why would Dorian be upset with you?” The blanket slipped down as she struggled to get to the table. Licking his lips, the swirl of drunkenness took hold of him. Running his palm over her ass he squeezed.

“Oh!” Whipping her head around, her cheeks were a deep crimson, “hungry, farm boy?”

Pressing his lips together he was enjoying the heat spreading over his limbs, and stirring him to life. As she pressed back into him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, turning her fully to him. Running his hand up her spine, he gripped her by the back of the head, pulling her face towards his. Hungry was an understatement. When his lips crashed into hers, it was as if a fire had been lit in him. She’d discussed her needs, her likes and dislikes, how she leaned away from gentle embraces and he was content to indulge her. 

Rough. She needed him hard and rough. Her fingers dug into his shoulder as she rushed to climb on top of him. Lips and teeth in equal measure, seeking to tease and tantalize. He was lost in the sensation as her lips brushed against his neck, tongue playing with the lobe of his ear before her teeth carefully grazed the surface. 

Each deep throated growl and hum drove both closer together. Heated palms playing over breasts, thighs, trailing and teasing. Cullen had never experienced anything like her. “You drive me mad,” he barely uttered out as she slid him inside of her. “I… ah… I can’t get enough.” Throwing his head back on the pillow he was trying to stay more aware, instead of falling into the embrace of his building euphoria. 

Sitting straight back, her hands firmly upon his chest, she let out a sigh, “keep talking like that and I won’t be able to last.” 

Gazing up at her through half lidded eyes, he loved watching how she rode him. How her hips rocked and swiveled, hitting places inside her that had her mewling louder and louder. “Maker’s breath, you are beautiful.” Grazing his fingertips over her hips, and stomach he felt the muscles clench and loosen. Firm and strong, he continued his journey upward, following her sighs. Cupping her ample breasts, thumbing the taut nipples. “You feel amazing.” 

Taking her hands off his chest she bundled her hair up in her arms, holding it seductively over her head as she leaned back further. Drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, she ground into him hard, seating him deeply inside her. Closing her eyes, she was losing herself in the sensation. His hands on her body, how perfectly he filled her. Each time she rocked, slipping him just barely out of herself she felt him hit a spot inside of her she’d never felt before. It was taking her higher, to a deeper sensation that make her vision sparkle and darken. He was speaking, and she was sure she could hear the baritone thrum, the rich Fereldan lick upon his tongue, but words were beyond her ears. Her head fell back as it shot through her. Heavy, hard, as it erupted across her core. Clenching her eyes tight, it glimmered along her eyelids. Making her lips tingle, and go numb.

Cullen caught it, just in time. Feeling her squeeze at him tightly, just as she bobbed backwards. Sitting up sharply, he clutched her around the waist and hauled her into his chest, “whoa, breath, breath.” 

Smiling, Diana held him, “I’m fine, don’t stop! You are incredible.” 

Holding her tightly he kept rocking his hips into her, her moans and sighs directly in his face, making him harder. “Diana.” He was panting as he felt her push back against him, matching his pace, “are you…”

“Fine, please. Don’t stop, its so good.” 

Before he could ask her more her lips were on his, pressing bruisingly tight. Her fingers in this hair, tugging the short strands at the back of his head. Picking up his pace he felt her twitch against him, her lips staccato before once more he felt her tighten around him. It was enough to get him to the edge. She broke the kiss, her lips by his ear, breathing heavily as she moaned out his name, low and long. That was it. Clamping her tightly down, he gripped her waist as he roared, spilling deeply inside of her. 

Both rested their foreheads together, trying to get in a breath of air. Eyes closed and panting, it was Cullen who let out a soft chuckle, “you have never had that before, have you?” 

Glaring at him through a half-opened eye, she sneered, “no, but I have heard of it before. Did I frighten you, farm boy?”

Grinning wide, he shook his head, “only concerned that you might be harmed. I have never taken someone to that edge before.” Flopping back down on the bed, his head was swimming, and he felt relaxed. It had been such a long time since he’d felt this good, this at ease. Throwing his arms behind his head he had a huge smile upon his lips. 

Curling up to his side, she pawed at his chest, “proud of yourself, farm boy? Making the noble girl’s toes curl, and scream your name.” Kissing his chest, she enjoyed the rumble of satisfaction that came from him. “I do enjoy you satiated and relaxed.” 

“I have never felt like this before. You are…”

Muffling his words against her lips she kissed him deeply before pulling back, “sleep, there will be time for talking later.” 

Not wanting to argue with her, he wrapped his arm around her body tightly and easily settled into the bed. “I could get used to this, very, very easily.” 

“I would be wonderful if you did,” Diana sighed, staring off at the canopy. With her head on his chest, she caught the moment he fell into a deep sleep. 

Carefully slipping out of bed, she snatched her cloak from her wardrobe, and put on her slippers. Quiet as she could she rushed down the steps of her room and towards Dorian’s personal chambers. Seeing light flash from under the door she pressed her ear to it. Hearing nothing, she knocked, “Dorian, please I need a word with you!”

A shuffling sound came from behind and a few moments later it opened, “Diana? What in the Maker’s name are you doing here? At this hour!” Waving her in he quickly shut the door behind her.

“I… I don’t know what to do, Dorian please.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, she wrapped the cloak about her tightly.

“This is about Cullen, isn’t it? Maker are you naked under that? Get closer to the heath!” Dorian flicked his fingers and the fire blazed brighter. “This is serious isn’t it?”

Warming her hands, she silently made a myriad of faces before she managed to grasp the words, “he, he’s too much and not enough, and I can’t stop, and…”

“And you love him,” Dorian folded his arms tightly, giving her his usually disconcerted look. “Admit it, come now, it’s right there.”

Shaking her head, Diana let out a string of coughing nervous giggles, “Dorian, me? Love? No, no, it can’t… no.”

Giving up, he dropped his arms, “well it seems the blonde lug is head over heels for you. If you break things off now, you’ll crush him. Perhaps, it isn’t love, perhaps it is. Either way, you both are practically glowing, why change it now?” Coming around to sit beside her, he pushed a soft warming spell over her. “Go back to him, sleep. We’ll be travelling around enough soon, and you’ll have plenty of time to think about this. At the least, the sex seems to be good.”

“Dorian!” Diana swatted his hand, with a giggle she nodded, “it really is. Don’t say anything, so help me.”

Chuckling warmly back he nodded, “promise. Cross my wicked little heart. Now, go. I would like to finish my book before I turn in for the evening. I had a lovely experience with that seamstress, and I need a good night cap.” 

Rising she adjusted her cloak again, “I’m sorry Dorian. Please, rest well cousin.”

“Don’t speak of it. No, please don’t. A naked Inquisitor in the evil Tevinter’s bedroom might lead to an interesting experience in the kitchen.” Rolling his eyes, he reached for the door, showing her out. 

Hurrying down the rotunda, she dipped silently back into her quarters. Coming into her room, she saw Cullen thrashing about in his sleep, “nightmare,” she groaned rushing to his side. Tossing the cloak towards her dresser, she rubbed her hand on his chest. “Hey, hey, farm boy. I’m here, I’m right here.” 

Wild eyes caught hers as he rapidly looked about the room, sweat slicking his temples. He was gasping for breath, flushed red and cool to the touch. Once more Diana purred softly, “Cullen, look at me Cullen. You are here, this is real, you are safe.” Touching his cheek, she saw his eyes return to normal. Helping him to sit up she quickly grabbed some water for him, “drink, slowly. If you need to, go to the balcony. The cool air will help.” 

Rushing up, Cullen raced for the balcony, throwing the door open, he wretched over the side. Swiping her cloak up she joined him, rubbing his back till he stopped, the water in her hand. “Drink, slowly. I’ll stoke the fire.” Pushing the cup into his hand she rushed back inside. He would begin to freeze soon enough, the thin coat of sweat clinging to his skin. Grabbing a night gown, she hauled it over her head as she moved quickly about the room. Throwing another thick log on the fire, using the billows she forced air over the coals, trying to kindle the hefty section of wood. All the while she kept her eyes on Cullen, who’s arm were braced against the railing, as he breathed in heavily. So heavily, she could see the clouds of his breath linger about him. 

Snatching her cloak, she raced back outside, “Cullen, you’ll freeze to death out here, come inside.” Tossing the cloak around his shoulders, she guided him back inside. Rushing ahead of him again she grabbed the chair from her desk and placed it before the hearth, “sit here, please.” Dropping to her knees again she was frantically trying to get the log to light. 

“You don’t need to…” Cullen’s voice was soft, and raspy.

“Hush,” Diana rose and retrieved more water for him. Swiping a few letters off the corner of her desk she shredded them and tossed them into the fireplace. With the new energy being added the embers sparked to life and licked at the paper, slowly beginning to eat into the log. “There, much better.” Sitting beside him on the floor she held her hands out to the flame. 

He sat in silence, his hands firmly grasping the small metal cup. Staring into the fire he was lost in thought, the lingering horrors of his night terror still clinging to the edges of his world. The cold helped ground him, help pull him back to the reality of the day. Now he was mesmerized by the flames, dancing as they bit and licked the wood, consuming it. She was speaking to him, just talking about nothing in particular. Her voice was warm, and comforting and it shamed him that he found it a blessing. Finally coming somewhat to his senses, he sipped the icy cold water, “thank you.” 

Sighing she curled up against his leg, “for what? I don’t recall a thing.” 

“I…” chuckling he realized he was still completely naked, only her cloak covering him. “I think we should get some sleep. Morning will be here soon.” He tried to bury it, the frustration, the shame as he tugged the cloak about himself. He should be strong enough to get through this, strong enough to push through. Yet, this was his reality. Waking nightmares, covered in sweat and sick to his stomach. Would this ever change? Could he ever hope this would get better?

“It will,” as if she’d read his mind, she was taking his arm, guiding him gently. “It won’t last forever. I’ve heard from the storyteller of the Dalish, outside of Ostwick, that dreams haunt the waking hours when they haven’t been released. When I asked him more, he said that they are the troubles that bother our waking mind, things we don’t wish to think on. When we dream they come upon us in ten fold. Perhaps, talking about it, may make it less.” Squeezing his arm, she patted his hand as he sunk into the bed, “you don’t have to, and I won’t hold it against you either way. Just, think on it.”


	9. In the Cards

Laying back down upon the bed, he thought on her words. Hearing the rustling of the blankets as she got in bed with him, her silk nightgown brushing against his side. “I… will think on it.” 

Sighing she knew he would be stubborn, how could she expect anything less. “Thank you,” was all she could manage, her ego deflated, and the effort having made her tired. Closing her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel like she had failed him. Failed in someway to make it better, to fix it. 

Come morning, she was up later than she’d like. Sitting up she stretched and yawned. Groaning she felt the mild throb of her hangover settle between her eyes. “Great, just what I needed,” she grumbled as she rose. Turning to look over the bed, she noticed he was gone. All his clothes and armor gone as well. Heading to her desk she tugged out her chest. Selecting a quick hangover cure she made a cup of potion to drink. There was a note on her desk, face down, with her name beautiful written upon it. 

Waiting till the potion released her headache, her hand shook as she took the note. Closing her eyes for a moment she chastised herself, “seriously Diana, what are you so nervous to see?” Flipping it over, her stomach was in her throat.

‘My dearest Diana, I’m sorry I could not stay. There are troop maneuvers that require my immediate attention and I find myself terribly distracted around you. I wanted to apologize for last night, it was something you should have never been forced to see or endure. I shall be busy all day with training and other tasks I have neglected in the past few days. I hope you can understand this, and I will see you as soon as I am able to. Thank you, again. – Cullen’

Reading it over several times she tried not to dig into it. Tried not to analyse every word and space. Yet she could tell this wasn’t the first letter he wrote. There were half burned letters in the fire and she knew he probably agonized over writing this, checking and double checking each word. Folding the letter up she tossed it into the fire. Not wishing anyone else to see it. 

She dressed and readied herself for the day, same as every day since she arrived at Skyhold. Coming into the courtyard she could hear him barking his orders, standing before troops with his training gear on. Tucking beside the doors she watched him for some time, how deep the line between his eyes was growing as his focus narrowed. He was intent in what he was doing. 

“See something remarkable?” Dorian huffed, leaning on the edge of the rail next to her.

“I see complexity where I thought there was none.” Sighing she stood straight, “I suppose I have work to do today don’t I.” 

Dorian rolled his eyes, “Maker you two are impossible, you know that, right?” 

Whipping to face Dorian, a grin spread wide across her face she laughed, “I’ve always been able to handle the impossible.” 

The day flew by as she caught up with papers, people and meeting far too many nobles for her liking. By the end of the day she was exhausted and grumpy. Stomping down the main hall she rolled her eyes when Varric flagged her over, “there you are Princess, I was looking all over for you!”

“Sure, I’m so elusive these days,” Diana chided as she set her hands upon her hips, “tell me, Master Tethras, what plans for the evening do you have for me?”

Chuckling he grinned, “bang on again. Come on, Wicked Grace, the tavern. Everyone’s invited. Even managed to convince Curly. Possibly because I said you’d be there, but I can’t confirm that.”

Grinning she nodded, “then lead the way Master Tethras.” 

Waving his hand, he led her down the stone stairway into the main courtyard, “with the way Curly’s been going today, he needs a few drinks at the least. Loosen him up a little.”   
“I’m sure you have just the right idea in mind,” Diana chuckled, “you claimed everyone will be there. I think this might just be a very interesting evening.”

“Has to be. The damned Winter ball is going to be in a couple days and that’s going to suck the life right out of everyone. The tailor’s made their rounds and have done their business. Dorian was griping about it all afternoon. You’d think that woman wanted to sew a full sleeve on his Tevinter gear.” Varric laughed and Diana joined him. “Come on Princess, you need a good drink too. Haven’t seen you out in a couple nights. Must be some serious work.” 

“The most serious of tasks, I assure you Master Tethras,” slapping his shoulder, she chuckled as he turned to look her over.

“What have I said about that Princess? It’s just Varric to you.”

“As long as you call me Princess, you shall always be Master Tethras. Does it bother you so, to be in such a high rank with a noble?” Quirking her eyebrow at him she rolled her shoulders before letting out a puff of air. The steam billowing about her in the cold night air, “you enjoy it, admit it.” Winking she held the door wide from.

“Won’t hear it from me Princess,” grinning he motioned her to go up the steps to the second tier, and again to reach the third. 

Rounding the top banister, she caught the large table. Two of them, pushed together, loaded with tankards, bottles, and trays of food. Around the table was her entire inner circle, minus two; Solas and Vivienne. To be fair, she had a hard time imagining Vivienne ever stepping foot in the tavern, and Solas had far more important things to research and do then drink. Catching Cullen’s eye, she let the grin sweep over the corner of her lips, curling up the one side into a half smirk. “Glad to see everyone here.”

“Wouldn’t miss a good drink, and good company for anything,” Blackwall laughed raising his stein to everyone before downing a good portion of his drink. 

Taking her place at the only open spot she was seated across from Cullen, “well, shall we get this game started? It seems we have everyone here.”

“I… I should go, I really have too much to do.” Cullen went to rise but Dorian’s voice stopped him.

“Come now Commander. You of all people could use a break. Gambling can be quite cathartic. Give it a try.” Smirking he tipped is head to Diana.

Easing back into this chair, the echo of Dorian’s sentiment being repeated by all at the table he nodded back, “I suppose a couple drinks wouldn’t hurt.” 

Diana smiled coyly as she took the tankard handed to her by Blackwall. While Varric mumbled on about the rules of Wicked Grace, and Josephine cut and dealt the cards, Diana kept her eye on Cullen. He looked uncomfortable, still in his bulky armor, unlike the group around who, who’d long discarded their formal attire. He was drinking in healthy heaps of his ale as Varric went on to suggest they each tell a tale. Blackwall started, livening up the room with an odd tale of one of his many journeys. Nearly starving to death and managing to lose half his company. Yet it all sounded hilarious when told and by the end, everyone was laughing. 

It seemed Cullen too had found his legs as he chimed in with a story of his own. While the game played on Diana hung on each word, even if she didn’t look like it. She was up six silver by the end of his tale and snickering under her breath. 

“Come now, Princess, you have to have a good story or two. Share some crazy shit with us!” 

Cracking her knuckles loudly she leaned back in her chair, “I’d love to. Does anyone need topping up before we begin? I’d hate to have dry throats while we enjoy our evening.”

“Hold on,” Cullen rose sharply, as if being commanded, “let me get more drinks. I don’t want to miss this.” Grabbing the two large jugs he marched down the steps. 

“That was, interesting,” Dorian snickered. “It seems he is eager tonight.”

“Hush,” Diana giggled, “he’s enjoying himself. Don’t ruin it. He ventures out so rarely, I’d like to enjoy this time with friends.” 

Cassandra flushed, “friends. Well said, Inquisitor.”

“Please everyone, call me Diana. While we are around this table, there need be no titles here. No rules, just good talk, good food, and terrible cards.” Laughing she tossed her cards in, “I fold this round.” 

Cullen returned soon enough, a third jug precariously balanced between the two, full to the brims. Iron Bull rose to help him get them served and everyone was once again topped up. As he settled in Diana grinned, “now that everyone has drink, and Josephine is cutting the cards, I’ll start my story.” Licking her lips, she took her cards, playing throughout the story. “Before the Conclave, I was out again, on my own. Something my father was loathe to let me do, so of course I went out dressed as a man. My older brother is slim in the hips and I fit into his leathers quite easily. Venturing out into the town, one can always find a bit of trouble, a good deal of horrible drink, and always a damsel in distress.” Upping the ante, she held her cards to her chest. “One night, it was a particular warm spring evening. I’d ventured to my favourite pub and ordered my usual ale. Nothing fancy, and always terrible. Sitting in my corner, I was abashed to all of the chatter of the town. Seems there was story going around of a haunt in some cave a couple kilometers from town. Being the curious creature, I am, I had to see for myself. Hearing the man speak, I caught sight of him. I’d seen him before, a half dozen times. Local con artist. Always out to bilk the unsuspecting and unprepared. It didn’t take me much to put it together. He was ripping people off, and selling it as a ghostly encounter. Probably threatening people to tell the tale to get more coin. Paying my tab, I excused myself. Keeping to the shadows as much as I could, I tracked them to the cave. I was half right. They had managed to chain a giant, a rather perturbed giant, deep inside. He wasn’t feeding him nearly enough and the thing was angry. When the conned small group entered the giant grabbed one man and eagerly bit him in half before everyone’s eyes. Of course, people came screaming and rushing to the front of the cave, unaware of the length of chain anchoring the poor creature further back. The local con artist, we’ll call him Giant Bait, was standing at the opening. Swords drawn with his small crew. Only coin would save them. They paid, as they were well off to afford their foolishness, and I was in no mood to aid in those silly enough to believe Giant Bait. However, I was interested in him getting a taste of his own medicine. I’d seen him bilk people before, but never with violence. He needed to be stopped.” Drawing in a drink of her tankard she saw the room hanging on her words. 

“I waited till darkness. Used a simple sleep dart. A Dalish recipe, they use it to treat the Halla’s when they get sick. In higher doses it can, and did knock the giant completely out. Slipping into the cave, I unshackled the thing. Being sure to hide the sabotage of this leg shackles, then I returned to town. A few whispers that there was a dead giant in a cave and off Giant Bait and his crew ran. I had to see this, and it was well worth it. By the time they arrived the sleeping dart was wearing thin. Our beloved innocent giant was coming alert, and still under nourished. Did you know, rams are giant’s favourite meal?”

Iron Bull burst into laughter, “you didn’t?! This is too good!”

“I did. A simple ram call, wounded and lone. That giant tore out of his slumber and directly into the path of dear Giant Bait and his underlings. Can’t say I felt sorry for him, he had it coming. That giant feasted, scarfing down the entire group, all six. Then it casually stomped back up the hill. I guessed by the tracks that headed up the hill, that he had some family that way. I took a peek, keeping my distance and wasn’t surprised to see a small family reunion. The giant in the cave, was a mother giant. Her child was very happy to see her, and I was quite pleased with myself. Seems I only made one mistake.”

“Left one alive, didn’t ya,” Blackwall sighed, “always a bad mistake when you pull off a thing like that. Did he find you?”

A wicked grin spread across her face, “yes, he did. He also found out I wasn’t Gordon Laramie, which was disappointing. Though he had no issue with trying to rape Diana Trevelyan. He didn’t get very far.”

“Rape! Maker! That’s terrible!” Josephine was leaning on the table, edging towards her every word.

“Yes. He grabbed at my jacket in the back alleys I liked to travel. Ripped it right off me. My foolish mistake. I never let anyone get that close. When I turned, he could see by my bra band, I wasn’t a man. He brandished a stiletto and waved me deeper into the dark corner of the street. All the time I had the upper hand. I didn’t want to kill him in board daylight and with my jacket off, there would be no blood on me. Perfect.” Grinning she paused to take a sip. 

Cullen’s eyes were bugging out of his head, “you… you could have been killed!”

Laughing loudly, she shook her head, “not even close. I had the best trainers, money could buy and when I bested them, dear mommy and daddy bought another to entertain me. I always beat them. Eventually they ran out, and I became bored. I snuck out often. Visited the Dalish and learned from them. This back alley incident, was nothing.” Waving her hand, she shrugged her shoulders. “No one suspects a woman is capable. Let alone more capable than a man. Pretend you are teary eyed and wounded and they believe the fight is all but won. All they need do is claim their prize.” Settling into her chair she saw the spark in his eyes. “I was and will be no man’s prize. Pushing him back into the alley he lunged. I countered with the blade I always kept at my back. We tussled, very briefly. He cursed me for ruining his coin pit. Said I took everything from him. I laughed in his face, damn fool thought he had the upper hand the whole time. Told me, I was laughing because I was a scared, cornered little girl.” Chuckling again she sighed, “I left that back alley unharmed, he bled to death slowly. A fitting ending to a terrible creature. I collected my jacket, only to be caught once more. Local whore, Verena. She thanked me. Said that man would beat her, rape her and had twice left her for dead in the same alley. I gave her the man’s coin purse before heading out of town. Guess I did the world a solid twice on that little run.”

Cassandra clapped, “well done.”

Dorian chuckled, “that’s our Diana. Bold, and brazen. Wouldn’t have her any other way. Well done cousin.”

“Shit Princess, didn’t know you could be so damned cold. Then again you did reunite a giant family. I doubt I could write anything this crazy. I’d have to at least throw in a romance somewhere. Tell me there was some romance in that!” Varric was chuckling loudly, his cheeks tinted pink as he tossed a few coppers into the pot. 

“Romance? My dear Master Tethras, I’ve never experienced romance. Perhaps some of that smut you write, but no one has tried to romance me. I believe I am immune to it.” Draining her tankard, she held it as Blackwall poured her another. 

Josephine frowned, “have you not been courted by men of renown?”

Now Diana laughed hard, loud and long before she managed to compose herself. “Those are not men Josephine. They are pampered boys, who are closer to chaste girls. None have won my attentions when they tried. I have little patience for boring men, more so from men used to receiving everything from mommy dearest. I want a real man,” she was staring into Cullen’s eyes, and everyone could see it. “Hardy, and rough. A man of the earth, built to last and work. Take these pretty counts and comtes titles away, and what are they? Whining men who think little of anything other than their own hair or what lies under a lady’s dress.” Turning away she looked straight at Josephine. “I prefer to challenge the fools to a duel. For my own hand. I’ve never been beaten, and I’ve claimed many prizes.” 

“That’s scandalous!” Josephine gasped before lowering her gaze and wearing a matching smirked nodded, “I love it!”


	10. Between Him and Stone

“I bet Curly here could best you,” Varric snorted jabbing Cullen in the only unprotected bit of his body. “I’ve seen you two in the ring, damn close fight either way.”

Diana toyed with the handle of her drink, stroking up and down the clay handle, “perhaps he could. I doubt either of us were giving it our all in the ring that day.”

Now it was Cullen’s turn to be bold, “I believe you were. And I won, if I remember right.” Shoulder bumping Varric back he snickered, a nerdy snorting laugh, “I do not claim prizes. Women are not to be claimed. That is the first mistake pompous nobles make.” 

“Interesting,” Diana licked at her lips, letting her tongue lingering across her bottom lip. 

“Well, I fold. Think I’ve lost enough of my coin this evening. It’s been damn entertaining though.” Blackwall sighed tossing his cards in, as he snatched his tankard. 

Cassandra joined him, “I believe the ambassador has earned enough of my coin this night as well.”

“Deal me in again, lady Ambassador. I believe I have figured out your tells,” Cullen grinned, tenting his fingers over the table.

Diana sat back and watched as the crowd hushed to see what horrible fate befell the Commander. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you Curly, Ruffles is ruthless.” Varric snorted, edging his chair away from Cullen. 

Diana nipped at the breads, cheeses and smattering of foods upon the trays as she laughed and joked with Dorian, Blackwall and Varric as they watched Cullen slowly lose every piece of clothing and armor he was wearing. As his smalls came across the table, Varric let out a snorting laugh, “I warned you Curly.”

“Not, another word, dwarf,” he groaned, his hands below the table.

Blackwall laughed, “reminds me of the night I played Solas in a game of diamond back. Had to run back to my shed with only a bucket for my bits.” 

Diana was now doubled over, her head on the table as she howled with laughter. It was then she caught the entirely too drunk Sera under the table. Handing her a biscuit she sat back up, lips pressed tightly together as she tried not to laugh again. 

“I’m leaving. I don’t want to witness our Commander’s walk of shame back to the barrack.” Cassandra sighed as she turned to Diana, “good night.” 

“Good night, Cass,” Diana snorted out between half giggles. Waving her hands towards Cullen she winked, but it was too late. Seeing people leave he took his chance. Standing quickly, he turned and bolted for the door leading towards his solitary tower. Making a puckering pout she leaned over to watch him run, catching the firmness of his rear as he rapidly disappeared through the door. 

“Great, don’t tell me you plan on keeping all his gear Ruffles. I’ll never get him back at the table for a game.” Varric rubbed his forehead as he counted his remaining coin.   
“I’ll return his gear,” Diana smiled, tugging free a spare bag of coin. “Take this, his debt it paid.”

Josephine eyed the bag, “I keep the smalls. I have over a half dozen suitors from Orlais who would gladly pay half a vault for those.”

Snickering Diana nodded, “deal.” Collecting each piece, she was laughing as Varric helped her bundle it up. “I’ve got it Varric, best I take it to him. Ease the embarrassment.” Winking she giggled again as Varric’s face lit up.

“You and Curly? Don’t mess with me Princess,” Varric snickered as they placed the last item into a ruck sack. 

Feeling carefree and bubbly with ale she snorted “yes and no and I don’t know. We’ve fucked, does that count?” 

Dorian came flying over, “not a word Varric, she’s clearly drunk.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Sparkler, but don’t be surprised if you read it in a book later.” Giggling as he turned, “I’ll catch you later. Pleasant night Princess.”

Diana patted Dorian on the chest, still snickering, “he’s going to put me in a book. I’ll be shagging some guy named Collin!” Bursting into laughter again she waved her hands, “Ok, ok. I’ve got this. Deep breathes.” 

“And here I was going to offer to help you.” Dorian sighed, “get going before he passes out.”

Slinging the sack over her shoulder, Diana walked the route he ran earlier. Enjoying the sobering effect of the night air she hurried along to his tower. Slipping in the side door, she turned just in time to catch him descending his ladder, a pair of loose sleeping pants about his waist. “Oh,” she sighed eyeing the dipping pelvic bones and the thick thatch of hair drawing her downwards. 

“Came to get a private show?” Crossing his arms, he looked her over before his eyes fell on the sack, “is that my armor?”

“Mhmm,” she licked her lips. Ale, and desire in equal measure rolling over her. 

Quirking his eyebrow, he grinned, the ale was running through him as well, hurried by his speedy rush to his private sanctuary. “You have come to do more than drop off my gear. I could have seen the Ambassador in the morning.” Relaxing his stance, he closed the distance, trailing his fingers up her arm. Feeling her shiver, he grinned. Advancing on her, he felt a thrill pass over him as she backed up until she was pressed against the stone wall beside the door. Leaning beside her, he flicked the lock, “last door.”

Splaying her palms against the stone, it always surprised her how warm it felt. Almost alive. Staring up into his eyes, the usual glimmering gems of citrine were replaced with amber rich hues, pupils blown as he raised that eyebrow. That damn eyebrow. Maker how she melted when he arched it, his intentions clearly more than a simple good night kiss. She pressed her back tightly against the stone, leaving no room to wiggle and he was too content to move in closer. 

Pinning his hips against her, he slid his hand down her arm, stopping at her hip, “I hope you planned on staying the night. I told you before, I can’t get enough of you.” Leaning down he held his lips just out of her reach, dipping his bottom lip out to give a tantalizing tease against her wanting mouth. 

“Stop teasing, you have me,” she grumbled, clearly needing more than half grazing lips to satiate the fire he’d stirred to life inside of her. 

Taking his hand from her hip, he was untying the cinch around her waist, “me? Tease? Never. Only promises.” Tossing her own words back at her as he slowly worked at her clothes. It was decadent torture, his body pressing into her, kicking her foot to force her legs apart as he lifted her up, still tight to the wall, his knee braced between her legs. Kissing her neck, his day-old stubble rasping again her skin, driving shocks through her spine. 

It’s rough. Scratching her skin, teasing her senses as his hand slithers into her pants, skating over the lace fabric of her smalls and she is breathless. As his fingers move along the edge of her mounds, she is already keening, pleading and begging for more. She gripped his arm, tightly, too tightly. With his free arm he grabs both of her wrists, easily enough, and trapped them over her head. She is at his mercy and it is a self-indulgent suicide. 

He took his time, edging her closer to near madness before he slides a long, curled digit inside of her. Only one. Not enough to give her the true friction and pleasure she is begging him for. It is just enough pressure to have her mercilessly fucking herself on his hand and he is enjoying every moment. Lips touching her ear he begins whispering, low, in that sultry baritone exactly what he wants to do to her. 

It’s all too much, so much so she cums then and both are surprised by it. But he finds it erotic and needs more, wants to pull more from her. Sliding his hand free, he beginnings removing her clothes. Letting her wrists free to remove her shirt. Once she is left in only her under clothes he returns her to the wall, pressing her again. 

She fought him. Struggled to touch, to kiss, to lick that damnable scarred lip that always plague her. “Take me to bed, I need you.” Growling between gritted teeth, she couldn’t take it anymore.

Satisfied he let her off the wall, “get up the ladder.” Slapping her rear as she strutted by him, he had a permanent smirk upon his lips and she put it there. Following behind her he watched her disappear over the last rung, the sound of the bed heaving under new weight sends a low squeak through the tower. Vaulting himself over the top, his eyes lay upon her. Spread on his bed, her fingers teasing and touching herself in her most intimate area and it instantly sparks new heights of interest. “Minx,” he purrs out as his hands press into the bed, crawling towards her. 

It’s a slow, sensual press of her fingertips and he is mesmerized. Sweeping them over her folds, down into her core, dipping them inside just to tantalize him more. But he turns the tables sooner than she is ready for. His lips chase everywhere her fingers had touched and then he snatches her hand. Taking each finger into his mouth, sucking, hollowing his cheeks and releasing each finger with a loud wet pop. As she mewls out her delight he returns his gaze to her honey drenched core. A lick of his lips and he disappears. Like a man starved for years he laps, tongue swirling and drawing her plump essence into his mouth. 

Back arching off the bed, she was making blubbering sounds as her eyes rolled back. It crushed her. Pressure built up so intensely inside when it burst she felt her air rush from her lungs. Everything grew dark, stars peppering her vision the only light that she could see. 

Slowly he dragged out her climax, taking it to the edge of comfort before easing off. Running his tongue over his lips, he savoured each spent drop. He enjoyed her glow, the radiant look of utter satisfaction upon her kiss swollen lips. Through half lidded eyes she extended a single finger, beckoning him to her, and it is like water in a dessert. He is aching, throbbing and rock solid. 

Pawing forward, he tugged her down the bed, until he is seated and ready for her. Being very slick he pressed into her with ease, and the tension around him is bliss. His head drops forward and he is panting as he slides inch by inch inside of her till she is filled with him. Eyes clenched tightly, he can feel her breathing heavily, can hear each gasping, loud cry she made and before he is ready she is rolling her hips into his. “Stop… I… I can’t…” he gasped out as she continues her pelvic coils. 

“Don’t then,” panting she licked her lips, the salty sweat tingling the tip of her tongue. 

Burying his fingers into her hips he plunged into her. Thrusting hard, he was barely hanging on as the sensation built up rapidly. Her begging and moaning was drawing it closer. Coiling it tight in the pit of his stomach. His lungs were burning. Cold mountain air tumbling through the hole in his roof, causing steam to roll off his shoulders. Biting down hard, he was nearly there, so close it was painful. “Diana… I…” taking in a lung full of air he held his breath as his dam burst. Holding it in as long as he could, the thunder that rocked over his body was so intense his vision darkened for a moment before he released that breath and gasped for several more. 

As he steadied his frame, Diana kept rocking against him, riding out his high until he was shuddering and pleading for her to stop in a broken voice. Throwing her arms up to him, she softly led him down to the bed, tugging the blankets with her. “You just keep getting better farm boy,” Diana chuckled, stroking his damp hair away from his face.

“You do things to me.” Cullen panted, letting her toy with the limp curls roaming his neckline and about his face. 

Sighing heavily, she smiled, “same.” Kissing his chest, she cozied into his bed.

“I need a break though. Things are getting… sore.” Blushing he threw his arm over his face to hide his embarrassment. 

“We leave for Halamshiral soon enough. Can’t be doing these things on the road. You are far too loud,” Diana chuckled out the last words. 

Snorting Cullen poked her, “me? I believe you were the one screaming my name not but a few moments past.” 

“True.” Diana felt her eye lids grow heavy and she just wished to sleep. “Tomorrow, we’ll take a small break starting tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cullen peered at her under his forearm.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “morning sex. Too many dignitaries driving me insane. Need a little of my Cully Wully to start my day right.”

Sitting in silence for a moment he ran it over a few more times. ‘Her Cully Wully,’ while he wasn’t pleased with the nickname, it was far to soft for his liking. But she had said something that clung to his ears, and etched into his heart. He was hers, and that couldn’t be closer to the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is going to be part of a series involving the growth of these two lovers, both emotionally, sexually and throughout the events of the game. It will involve some jumping around and if you don't read from the beginning there will be references to come that won't make sense. I appreciate everyone kudo, and comment, and all fic recs. I hope you've enjoy the story so far, and I look forward to developing these two as we go.


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